The Twelve Labours of Imoen
by Coutelier
Summary: Nalia becomes furious at Imoen along with her number one sidekick, after a practical joke drives the Lady up the wall. In order to atone, Imoen must perform twelve great tasks worthy of a demi-goddess. All unaware that a far greater force is at work.
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

Although of course there is a lot of satire and humour in my stories anyway, it's been a long time since I've written anything just for laughs. But recently I finished writing this tale which I now share with you. Of course, there are lots of heart warming little moments illustrating the strong bond these characters have, but mostly it's just fun so please enjoy!

**The Twelve Labours of Imoen**

**~*~**

**Part One: Prologue  
**

"I-I'm not sure this is such a good idea…" Aerie teetered bashfully on her feet. She was worried, and with good reason; Imoen had been unwell, so the others had all left her here at De'Arnise keep whilst they caught a ship all the way to Icewind Dale. There had a been a call out for adventurers from all over to help deal with some goblin hordes… it seemed like easy money and a chance for a nice vacation. Only the Avariel elected to remain behind with her friend, and now that the red head was feeling better a terrible storm was brewing. Imoen was bored.

"Trust me Aerrers, it'll be great!" Imoen winked as she leant over the pot she had on the oven. "All those stuffy bores ever do is stuff themselves with boar and talk about stuff… this'll liven things up for us, and them. Did you bring all the ingredients?"

"Yes, h-here," Aerie untied a small sack on the cabinet next to the oven, "I do think we ought to think about this a little more though… I-I'm not sure everyone has the same sense of humour you do…"

"Lighten up, will ya? It'll be funny and no one will get hurt."

"No…I suppose you're right," at least, so long as Aerie made sure Imoen used the right amounts of each ingredient, "Not too much of that!" The elf's arm snaked out and grabbed Imoen's wrist. "You… you don't want anyone to explode do you?"

"Hmm," the red head thought for a moment, "No… I suppose we don't."

Sighing wearily, Aerie leant forward and rested her head on the table. There was really no point in arguing… no matter how insane Imoen's scheme was she was going to be dragged along into it. It seemed she was just too weak to resist.

It was inevitable really that the two of them ended up doing so much together; they were both treated as the 'children' in the party, only Imoen had been around much longer so she'd assumed the big sister role which she seemed to relish. Whenever Aerie wasn't sure how she should react or behave around something or someone, she always looked to the red head. The red heads advice wasn't always helpful, but at least you know she meant well which was what Aerie considered important. Imoen always stood up for Aerie, made sure that others didn't try to take advantage of her… so really, the least the Avariel could do in return was help her with this… but of course Nalia was her friend as well and she already felt guilty just thinking about what they were going to do her…

But then, Imoen was often right… maybe she would laugh and everyone else would see the funny side as well and then everyone would have cookies…

"Quick, the bottle!" Imoen instructed urgently. Aerie immediately uncorked a small container and held it out so that the red head could pour in the now finished potion. Seconds later, just as the blonde was putting the cork back in, a visitor entered the kitchen.

"What are you two doing in here?" Lady Nalia De'Arnise, hand on hip, stood at the doorway in her luxurious blue and gold robes. Arching an eyebrow, she regarded the two other young women with great suspicion.

"Us? We were just brewing some healing potions," Imoen lied and Aerie, standing slightly behind her, nodded emphatically.

"Why? You're not going anywhere are you?"

"No, of course not… it's just always a good idea to be prepared."

"That's good," Nalia let go of her noble bearing and fell wearily into a chair at the end of the dining table (although it was only staff who ever ate in here whilst important people like her dined in the great hall). "I was afraid you were going to go and leave me with those bores…"

"Pigs, are they?"

"You got that right! They're already on their fifth course of roast chicken stuffed with bacon and showing no signs of stopping… I suppose it's worth it though. It looks certain that they'll build the new road through here which means well paid work for the local people and more trade in the future…"

"Well then silly, you need to cheer up! I mean it's all good news isn't it?"

"Yes… yes it is," Nalia forced a smile onto her very tired face, "But you two… you've been here more than a ten day now and I've hardly seen head nor tail of you. I mean… don't you like me?"

"Eh? What's brought this on all of a sudden… of course we like you, don't we Aerie?"

"I-I like you," the elf nodded affirmatively.

"There you go, and you know it's impossible for Aerie to lie."

"You're not just saying it?" Nalia twisted her finger against the table.

"Oh, sheez," Imoen rolled her eyes and sat down gently next to young noblewoman whilst Aerie went to other side of the table and did likewise. "Come on, what's bothering you?"

"It's just… all my life the people I've thought were my friends seem to keep avoiding me. It can't be the smell, can it? I have a bath every other month which is far more than the average person in Amn."

"You smell lovely," Aerie assured her friend, placing a hand supportively on her arm, "m-much better than anyone in the circus. O-only wash I ever got was every summer someone would throw a bucket of cold water over me."

"Yeah… I prefer a nice bath to these modern shower systems," Imoen nodded.

"So why do people never want to spend time with me?" Nalia asked.

"Nals… it's just," Imoen found it hard to look the noble in the eye suddenly.

"Yes?"

"Well… you're doing all this great stuff for the good of all Amn, getting jobs for people, getting them rights, which is all very good… but, you never seem to have any time for the people actually close to you."

"I see…"

"It's not that no one likes you, it's just that you're always busy meeting all these other important people, or planning for the next meeting or political campaign. And we think, 'well, that's what she likes doing so we'll leave her to it'. Y'see?"

"I understand," Nalia picked herself up, "thank you for your honesty." Without betraying any emotion, she turned around and started to leave. Imoen looked at Aerie, whose face told her that the elf really didn't think it good to leave things like that, prompting Imoen to throw her arms and head back in a 'why me' gesture.

"Listen, Nal," the red head leapt up after her, "how about a holiday?"

"A holiday?"

"Sure… the others won't be back for ages so as soon as you've clinched this deal why don't the three of us go to the city and have a good time."

"We can go to the theatre!" Aerie clapped her hands together, a broad grin on her face.

"Sure… and we'll sing and dance and have a good time. Then, once we've toured the city we can down the coast and crash on the beach."

"I'll wear my straw hat!" Aerie beamed again. She had recently developed a passion for dressing up.

"So what do you say? Everyone needs a holiday now and then… even you."

"I have been feeling very tired lately," Nalia contemplated, "so it is a good idea I suppose. Yes… yes! We'll go. Just as soon as I've got those fat oafs to sign the contract."

Punching her palm and with a look of renewed determination, the noblewoman set off at once for the main hall.

"That's the attitude!" Imoen cheered after her. Moments later, she turned to Aerie. "And now, we've got to hurry too…" she shook the potion bottle a little.

"You… you're still going ahead with it?" The elf sighed. She was hoping Imoen might have given up the idea now they were going on holiday.

"Of course! This is what she needs to lift her spirits," the red head said with a knowing wink. Aerie shook and tried to hide her head in her arms. Maybe it would turn out to be a dream…

--

Unfortunately it wasn't, and shortly after the pair were standing outside the main hall just as a servant was running up the stairs with an amphora filled with wine.

"Oh hey," Imoen waved him down cheerfully, "we'll take that in for you. You go and rest for a bit."

"You wouldn't be up to any tricks now, would you Lady Imoen?" The servant asked suspiciously.

"Come on… you know me," the red head said, eyes fluttering innocently.

"Yeah I do… that's why I'm worried."

"Look, if anyone asks any questions later, not that they will mind, you just tell them I forced you to give me the amphora."

"Well… doesn't bother me if anything slightly unpleasant should befall these rich bastards. So long as I'm out of it."

"Excellent… you go and have a nap because I said it was okay, okay?"

"Right you are Miss. I'll be asleep throughout the whole thing… whatever the thing is."

Having procured the amphora, Imoen set it down and removed the lid.

"I-I'm still not sure about this," Aerie teetered again.

"You know me as well Aerie… when have I ever been wrong?"

"Well, i-it's not like I keep a logbook for each separate occasion but I'm sure you have been wrong before…"

"Once or twice, maybe," Imoen waved it off, "really, how often have we had this exact same discussion? And how often have you seen afterwards that there was nothing to worry about?"

"A lot… I-I suppose," Aerie sighed. It was true; she'd had these jitters before. And then Imoen's plan did turn out to be lot's of fun. Still, this was more ambitious than anything they'd attempted before…

"Do you think that's enough?" Imoen bent over and started pouring the potion into the wine.

"I think that should be plenty."

"Just need something to stir it with," the pair looked around, and then Aerie spotted and went to fetch a thin sword hanging on the wall. Despite the objections she kept raising, she found it impossible not to go along with Imoen. Even if it made her uncomfortable, it was nice to feel a part of something at least. And not get kicked all the time like in the circus.

As Imoen thoroughly stirred the mixture, Aerie walked into the corridor to keep one of her extraordinary Avariel eyes out. One of the dignitaries soon came slowly swaggering towards her from the bathrooms, his huge gut swaying from side to side. The elf stepped a little to the side to cover Imoen, but then…

"Owwwwww!" Aerie howled, jumping all the way to the ceiling and grabbing hold of the toes on her right foot. The pain caused a sudden surge of adrenalin, and she furiously started hopping after the man who had just passed her.

"Um… e-e-excuse me, sir," she said, her entire face flushing red.

"Yes?" He turned around slightly and spoke with a laboriously slow, yet elegant voice. The voice of someone used to extreme comfort and pleasure.

"You… you just trod on my foot a-and… I-I'd like an apology, please…"

"Stop whining, girl," he said and turned away.

"Wh-whining?" Aerie kept hopping towards him. "But I wasn't…"

"You are."

"Well… b-begging your pardon sir, but… I-I've not spoken a word in your presence since you arrived three days ago when I said 'hello', so I hardly think this one complaint can be called whining."

"Your facts may be correct… but the truth is the very moment I set eyes on your blonde hair and heard your sweet as honey girlie voice I subconsciously labelled you according to popular cultural stereotypes. Ergo, despite having no knowledge of your background and having spent no time with you whatsoever, I have already formed an image of you in my brain as a whiner and a fake and probably rather stupid. It is only slightly possible that were I to get to know you better that image might change, but it is unlikely since I am now far too hungry to start doubting my prejudices… not that I need to explain myself to you anyway. You dumb blonde bitch."

"Oh," Aerie had to blink a few times as she took all that in. Also, by the time he'd finished, her foot was feeling much better. "I… respect your honesty, sir, e-even though I find your attitude rather callous."

"Yes, yes, of course," he waved contemptuously with one hand whilst patting his profusely sweating brow with the other, "now, since I assume you are one of the serving girls around here, I wonder why you aren't doing your job and bringing us more to eat. I'm feeling empty inside."

"I am n…!" Aerie, still fuming a little, started to protest when she felt a nudge from Imoen beside her. "Um… t-that is, we thought you'd like a drink before your eighth course," a facetious little smile appeared on Aerie's lips. Now she was starting to see the funny side.

"Hm… we could do with something to wash down the steak and onion pudding. Very well," he pushed through the doors to the main hall were nine of his companions, all from the road building committee, lounged about surrounded by fine drapes, grapes, and now wine. The two women immediately set about filling up everyone's cup.

--

Nalia just needed to take a moment to apply a new layer of makeup before she herself made her way to the hall; the sooner she could be rid of those bloated pachyderms the better. There was practically nothing left in the larder now, and were Jaheira to come back and find out an entire species of deer had been hunted to extinction just to provide their third course there would be hell to pay.

She didn't spot Aerie or Imoen when she arrived; the two were hiding behind a pillar waiting to see the results of their concoction. Although she did find that someone had already poured a drink for her, which was good because she needed one.

As she drank she took a moment to admire the new tapestry hanging on the wall depicting scenes from Amnish history. It had taken ten years and two hundred embroiders to make and cost her twelve thousand gold pieces… rather an extravagance for her to indulge in, but it was sure to impress visitors and help secure many business deals in the future so it was well worth every ingot. Besides, she liked it and it looked good.

"Now gentlemen," she stood and put the cup down, "I believe it's time we finalised the deal… oh, I say, are you feeling well Lord Windbreaker?"

"I'm," the well covered and well rounded noble hiccupped, then closed his eyes as he wiped away some gravy. "I'm fine my dear. Perhaps a little light headed…"

"Light headed indeed?" Someone said, a distinct note of surprise in his voice. When Lord Windbreaker opened his eyes he found himself looking down on a rather astonished committee.

"What the…?" An equally astonished Nalia said as she felt herself lifted up into the air. Around her the rest of the committee, all rather used to objects being attracted to the force of their own gravity, found themselves in the most unfamiliar position of having their bodies repelled from the ground below.

"They're like balloons!" Nalia heard Imoen's voice, accompanied by her usually infectious laughter. Aerie too was finding it hard not to giggle. "See, I told you it would be great!"

"Y-you… you two…?" The noblewoman stuttered, not believing her eyes or her ears.

"This is most unsettling," the blimp bobbing next to her drawled, "I have a delicate stomach you know…"

"Oh, shut it fatso!" Nalia sneered, her patience already wearing thin. But sure enough, the man in question's cheeks started to swell; he was going to be sick. She'd just had these floors polished as well…

"Bu… bur… _burrrrrrahhhh!!_" Unable to hold it in, the man had no choice but to let go. It came as no relief to Nalia to find that rather than vomit, a huge jet of flame erupted from his mouth. Whatever potion they'd used, it at least stopped him from burning himself, though it was small comfort.

"Hmmm… Nalia's looking very cross though," Aerie said, wiping away a tear.

"She's full of hot air alright! Heehee!" Imoen doubled over herself.

"Oh… I say," Lord Windbreaker was turning green also.

"No! Lord Windbreaker, turn your head…!" Nalia pleaded desperately, but it was too late. Another flame erupted, and seconds later a twelve thousand gold coins worth work of art fell to the ground as a worthless pile of ashes.

"My tapestry!" She cried, tearing at her brown locks.

"Oh… my…" Aerie gasped and covered her mouth.

"Hee!" Imoen however, kept laughing.

"That's' it!" The Noblewoman screeched. "This is not funny, you irresponsible micro-brained cretin!"

"Oh… heh… haha… I," Imoen was having to hold onto Aerie to stay upright. "Oh, I can't stop… haha!"

"I knew it was a mistake to let you stay here! Frankly, it was a mistake to ever rescue you from Spellhold… that's where a lunatic like you belongs! And as for you…"

"Er… m-me?" Aerie squeeked and pointed at herself.

"Yes, you! You know better and yet you always let her lead you around like a puppy! I'm surprised she doesn't you tricks!"

"Hey, steady on Nal," Imoen finally started pulling herself together, "Aerie's not a puppy… and anyway, I have taught her tricks…"

"Why don't you shut the hell up and let her speak for herself for once!" By now, Nalia's face was completely red. "I've had enough… _GUARDS!_"

Almost right away, the well trained and ever vigilant De'Arnise guards marched into the hall, resplendent in their yellow and blue liveries and spotless breastplates.

"My Lady?" The Captain looked around, confused.

"I'm up here," Nalia steamed.

"Er… why are you up on the ceiling my Lady?"

"Don't waste time asking stupid questions! Arrest those two lunatics!" The Guard Captain followed the point of Nalia's finger, and quickly realised that there was a good chance his Lady's orders were far more easily given than done. Aerie was one of the best spell casters in all Amn and had been favoured by several gods. Imoen wasn't bad either and was as slippery as a pond in winter.

"Er… these two? Are you sure my Lady? You… you do know who they are?"

"I know who they are alright! They're a couple of cretins! Now what am I paying you for, get on with it! Throw them in the dungeon!"

"You can't have us arrested!" It was now Imoen that was astonished.

"I'm the lady of these lands so I can do whatever the hell I like! Now carry out my orders!"

"Right… um," carefully, the Captain removed his helmet and stepped towards the people he had to take prisoner. "Ladies… I'm afraid my Lady has said I've got to arrest you," he nervously turned his helm around in his hands, "so, I was wondering if, as a favour to me, you would just come along quietly like… pretty please?"

"I-I think we should just go with them," Aerie whispered, "We don't want to upset Nalia more a-and it may help her to calm down."

"Yeah… I guess you're right," Imoen sighed. "We'll come along quietly… but no funny business, understand?"

"Wouldn't dream of it," the relieved Captain said. "Now, if you would kindly follow me to your cells. I'll make sure you don't get put in with any of the usual drunks and madmen."

"I suppose this means the holiday is cancelled now," Aerie muttered sadly as she was led away.

"I don't suppose anyone is going to get us down?" Lord Windbreaker asked.

"Don't worry," Nalia sighed, "the effects of these potions don't last very – " As one, the humans balloons were suddenly flung back to earth. "Ouch."

--

The cage door slammed shut. Aerie instantly found herself reliving painful old memories as she held forlornly onto the bars… although, this time at least her captors had a much more polite way of doing things.

"I hope it's not too claustrophobic for you in there Miss Aerie," The Captain smiled at her as he turned the key. "If you like, I could leave the window open."

"Thank you for your concern… but, I'll be alright," she smiled back.

"If you say so miss. But remember, if either of you needs anything you just call for the jailor. He'll make sure you're well taken of, and I've instructed the cook to prepare a special menu. And please don't escape until morning… I think my Lady just needs a bit of time to calm down and gather her thoughts."

"I hope so… a-and thank you again."

"Well, good night ladies," he bowed and disappeared along dank corridor.

"Definitely one of the nicest prisons I've been in," Imoen sat down on the filthy mattress. "Don't think much of the toilet facilities though," which of course consisted of a bucket and a sponge.

"I-I'm not talking to you!" Aerie huffed, and sat down sulkily on the other mattress. "In fact I don't even want to see your face," crossing her arms, she pointedly looked away.

"Why not?"

"Because Nalia's right… I shouldn't let myself be led around by you all the time. I knew this would go wrong from the start, but you never listen to me, do you? A-and now, because I trusted you, I'm dragged down here with you."

"I'm sorry Aerie… but it's not my fault. Nalia just overreacted."

"We set fire to a priceless work of art…"

"It was ugly."

"I know… b-but it cost an awful lot of gold. She told me."

"If she wants to throw her money away on cheap tat then that's her problem. Look… you're not going to spend all night sulking are you?"

"Yes… and I've told you I don't want to talk to you," Aerie stamped her foot impetuously.

"Fine," Imoen too crossed her arms, "you know what I'm going to do? I'm going to sulk as well, so there!"

Although Aerie was trying very hard not to look at Imoen, she did, out of the corner of her eye, catch a glimpse of the red head with bulging eyes and comically pursed lips… after a few such glimpses she couldn't take it anymore.

"S-stop it!" She giggled. "Y-you look like a fish…"

"Well I'll stop sulking if you will."

"Oh… alright," the blonde elf relented.

"Everything will be okay. The jailor will bring us something to eat, we'll go to sleep and by tomorrow Nalia will have calmed down and everything will be back to normal. Okay?"

"Okay…"

--

But the next day:

"How was it in our jail?" Nalia asked the defendants as they were led to the dock. "Unpleasant I hope?"

"A little damp maybe," Imoen answered, "But the room service was excellent. Almost choked on one of the prunes though." There were, she noticed, a lot of people around. Some of them in expensive robes tottering around officiously carrying scrolls and things, and opposite Aerie and herself were twelve of the local villagers. "Er… Nals, whats going on?"

"Your trial of course!" The noblewoman said with a broad smile. "Now… where's my hat and my hammer. Might as well get things started now you're here…"

"Your hat and you ha…" slowly, the nature of the situation was beginning to dawn on Imoen. "Hey… wait a minute! I object!" She shouted.

"You can't object… we haven't started yet dummy."

"But you can't be the judge!"

"Why not?"

"Well… you're hardly likely to be impartial, are you?"

"Of course not. As far as I'm concerned you're as guilty as man seen leaving a seamstresses house with a big grin on his face. But the law states that it was responsibility of the nobility to dispense justice upon their own lands. Really, if you don't like the way we do things in this country then I don't know why you stay."

"'Ere 'ere!" One of the jurors applauded. "Blasted foreigners coming 'ere n'stealing our womenfolk! 'angings too good for 'em I say!"

"Now, now, no one is being hung," Nalia said. And then, with a sly wink, added, "at least not yet. There's got to be a trial first so that it gets done legally. Now," the young Noblewoman brought her hammer down, "This court will now hear the case of The State versus Imoen and Aerie. I sentence the two of them to…"

"Hang on!" Imoen objected again.

"Oh bother… what is it this time?"

"What about the case? The trial?"

"Everyone knows you did it so what's the point in wasting everyone's time? The jurors have all got homes and families to get back to. They don't be stuck in here all day."

"That's right," there was a general murmur of agreement from the jury.

"So what was the point of dragging them out here in the first place?" Imoen protested; unfortunately she knew she would probably loose the argument given she wasn't that well versed on Amnish law. Her instinct said that none of this seemed fair… but then that was probably the point.

"It's got to be done legally," Nalia explained, "never let it be said that Lady Nalia De'Arnise is above the law. Now where was I? Ah yes… your sentence. It would give me great pleasure to throw you in prison for a very long time…"

"I'm sorry Aerie," Imoen hung her head resignedly, "but don't worry. Soon as the others find out about this they'll get us out."

"… but," Nalia went on, "I though about it last night and realised that really wouldn't be much fun. So I thought of an alternative punishment. Together with the members of the road building committee, I have here a list of twelve tasks that you must perform for us. You will be of service to the community for a change and will repay the damages you've caused."

"What sort of tasks?"

"Oh… nothing too dangerous for a demi-goddess like you I'm sure," Nalia goaded, and Imoen promptly fell for it.

"Hm… go on then. Do your worst."

"Excellent!" Nalia smiled brightly. "Now then… this young man here," the young man she indicated wore apprentices robes and had sun bleached brown hair, "has volunteered to observe you and ensure that all the tasks are carried out exactly as required."

"Er… the names Ewan," he approached the defendant's dock, "I'm looking forward to working with you… Miss Aerie," he said taking and gently kissing the elfs hand, and then completely ignoring Imoen. Both females were stunned.

"And I see no reason for you not to get started right away," Nalia said. "Court dismissed!"

And so began a journey that would become a legend told for generations to come.


	2. Chapter 2: Purrpurrmrr

_Chapter two... and to avoid confusion this not a story about Imoen giving birth to twelve kids (duodecimlets?), it's a story about Imoen performing tasks._

_Anyway, as I'm sure you're all aware, the first labour of Heracles (Hercules) was to slay the Nemean Lion and bring back its hide. Well, we can't abide with that kind of cruelty to animals in this day and age so I've altered it slightly... although it's not really any better from Imoen's point of view._

_If you're wondering what the fuss is about, see my 'Untitled Document and other short stories', chapter 2._

**The Twelve Labours of Imoen**

**~*~**

**Part Two: Purrpurrmrr  
**

"So, everything is back to normal is it?" Aerie's eyes narrowed to slits as the two convicts were being led by Ewan across the drawbridge out of the castle. Everywhere the weather was nice, apart from the vicinity immediately around the elf.

"Alright, alight," Imoen walked beside her, hands behind her head and gazing up at the sky. "Don't see how it's my fault if they don't know how to take a joke."

"Why do I keep trusting you?" Aerie shook her head and sighed.

"It's my fun lovingness and carefree optimism. It sucks you in."

"Like a deep, black hole that nothing, not even common sense, can escape from…"

"Cheer up, Aerrers. A smile is more useful than a frown, isn't that what Quayle said? So, we've been arrested and sentenced to do some community service. Well, moping about it's not going to change anything. Just smile and have the most fun you can and the worst of it will be over in no time."

"I… I-I guess that makes sense," Aerie smiled, at least a tiny bit. "Hmph… y-you know you could talk an elephant out of its trunk."

"Yup… and with you being the best witch this side of Rasheman we've got nothing to worry about have we?" The red head grinned. "We can take anything they throw at us. Or I guess we could just leave… it's not like Nalia could stop us."

"She's still our friend… i-isn't she? I don't want to upset her any more than we already have."

"Besides," Ewan stopped and turned around to address them both, "if you run off you will each be branded as outlaws. Your likenesses will be circulated around every city, town and village in Amn and beyond along with a not insubstantial bounty. You will be hounded by the law, turned away from town gates, unable to find shelter or refuge…"

"We get the idea, thanks," Imoen quirked her lips. It was her thinking expression; she remembered the assassins and bounty hunters she'd encountered after her flight from Candlekeep, early in her adventures. Of course, she was sure that she and Aerie could handle any such lowlife's. But she wasn't sure they could handle the shock of having seemingly ordinary people suddenly attack them and therefore have to suspect everybody they met.

"Also, I'd like to point out that Lady Nalia isn't doing this out of vindictiveness towards you… at least not entirely. Having you perform these tasks was the only way she could come up with to ensure that the new road still gets built through here."

"I guess if it makes her feel better then we'll let her have her fun," the red head sighed.

"W-what happens if we fail at a task?"

"Ah, an excellent question to ask Miss Aerie!" Ewan seemed to get brighter suddenly. "Twelve is the required number of tasks that you must perform, so if you should fail at any then another will be set until the required number has been met."

"And what happens if we refuse to do a task?"

"That is a stupid question," the guide glared at the red head, "if you refuse to attempt any one of the tasks set for you then you'll be sentenced to twenty years in prison. Given your natures I wouldn't be surprised if the Cowled Wizards didn't get involved somehow…. Now, if you would kindly follow me…"

Abruptly he turned about and continued to lead them along a stony path, the two young women keeping as discreet a distance as they could.

"He… he makes me nervous," Aerie said after a moment.

"Makes you nervous? Did you see the looks he was giving me?" Imoen tried not to shudder under the memory of that gaze, "like I'm the source of all evil and wrong doing in the world or something. He seems to like you though."

"Hm… t-that's why he makes me nervous."

"It is a bit deranged I suppose… I mean it's obvious I'm the cutest. Maybe he it's the stutter. Hm, I could stutter too if I wanted… t-t-th-that's right…"

"I'm sorry," Aerie bowed her head and looked away sadly. Imoen bit her own lip; she supposed with hindsight that had been rather thoughtless. "I don't… I don't mean to stutter. I-I try really hard not to."

"No, I'm sorry… but you know I was only joking, right? I wasn't really making fun of you," the red head put her arm around the elf, "honestly Aerie, you can't go through life being so sensitive all the time. Now come on, who always takes care of you?" Imoen smiled, and gave the elf a little squeeze just to make sure she gave the right answer.

"Um… y-you," Aerie smiled back, again being somewhat bashful.

"That's right. Remember that fella' who said he was a deposed king from Chult, but his brother had died so he needed the money to get a boat back to claim his inheritance? You'd still be in that tavern now if it weren't for me… he'd have talked you out of everything down to the clothes you were wearing."

"I-I did think it was odd that a king would ask in taverns for help, r-rather than go see the ambassador," Aerie flushed a little from embarrassment. It wasn't that she was gullible; but, her lack of experience combined with very little self-confidence meant she found it hard to openly question what was told her. She was always a target for conmen, scammers and somewhat dubious philanthropists willing to part with their antique lamps for only the price of a luxury villa.

"Trust me Aerie… the ambassador would never have heard of him."

"I still don't understand why people would lie like that…"

"We're just about there," Ewan said, interrupting. It appeared they had arrived at a small farm; there were a few wooden buildings, a pen filled with sheep, a goat and they could hear clucking. The place definitely screamed 'farm' all right.

"So what are we doing here?" Imoen quizzed.

"We're here for your first task; should be quite an easy one. Just dealing with a local nuisance who has been stealing chickens from the farm here," he said, confirming everyone's suspicion that it was indeed a farm.

"Sounds easy," Imoen yawned somewhat theatrically, "so I guess we just stake this place out until this fella' show up, then I'll cast a sleep spell on him and we call for the guards to take him away, right?"

"Oh no… you're not allowed to use magic for this task. I'm afraid those are Lady Nalia's explicit instructions; so much as a cantrip and you'll have failed."

"No magic? Look… we're not amazons! How do you expect us to defend ourselves without magic?"

"No need to get your knickers in a twist… the criminal is elusive, but hardly dangerous. The two of you will be able to handle him if you put your heads together."

"Okay, fine… we'll play by the rules," Imoen relented. Of course, it wasn't her knickers he would have been interested in; a potentially advantageous bit of information that she filed away for later use. "Er… just lay off the clichés for a bit, okay? Now where are we supposed to wait?"

"No need to wait… it seems the culprit has already come to us…"

"What?" Imoen turned full circle, but apart the farm all she saw were trees. "I don't see anyone?"

"Er… look down. By your feet…" and she did so.

"Meow?" Said the greyest and ugliest cat she had ever seen.

"EEEEK!" Imoen screeched and leapt through the air, landing in the arms of a very surprised Aerie who unfortunately, since she really wasn't a six foot tall Amazon with a rock hard abdomen and bulging biceps, was unable to carry the weight of her friend for more than a few seconds and then fell over backwards the red head landing on top and forcing all the wind out of her.

"Ai… Ailuraphobia," the elf nevertheless tried to explain to Ewan, who was now finding it hard to look away from the scene of the red head straddling the breathless and blushing blonde. The cat meanwhile had also got a fright and gone running into the forest.

"Er… right," he got himself to blink and look away, "well, you have until sunset to catch him. I shall be around to observe from a distance. Good luck."

--

"It's hopeless," Imoen hung her head forlornly as she trampled through the forest, "we'll never find him in this… let's just give up on this task now…"

"We have to keep trying until sunset," Aerie reminded her, "o-or we'll be back in prison."

"Yeah, but, that's not so bad is it? We get meals and a roof over our heads… most importantly we won't have to face that… that malicious evil thing!"

"I know it's hard," Aerie said supportively, "but it's only a little cat. I-it can't really hurt you…"

"Oh no? Well let me tell you something… I got scratched by a cat once. Really nasty cut on my hand right here which hurt like hell. And then it got infected, so don't you tell me those things can't hurt you! I was only trying to give it something to eat so I was hurt emotionally as well."

"You'll have never survived in the circus," Aerie shook her head in an almost haughty manner.

"That's different… sure there are some really big cats there but they're not sneaking around all the time watching you…"

"Well… I-I think even big cats in the wild…"

"No!" Imoen made a stopping signal. "I don't want to know about what they do… I'd rather spend the rest of my life living in blissful ignorance of the facts."

"No change there then," Aerie muttered to her self.

"What?!"

"Hm… n-nothing," the elf smiled sweetly.

"I'm beginning to wonder if the fella' that trod on your foot wasn't right about you…"

"Look!" Aerie whispered urgently. "There he is!"

Sure enough, a short distance away the grey cat who had brought so much misery to the farmers was lounging beneath the shade of a tree wiping its claws with it's tongue. The two women crouched down and hid themselves behind another bush.

"Right," Imoen said, digging in deep. At least they could end this quickly. "Listen, I'll sneak around and chase him this way and then you catch him right?"

"Right," Aerie nodded, "I-I will try my best."

And so the simple plan, which usually do turn out to be the best ones, was put into action. Imoen stealthily worked her around, feeling out the ground with her feet so as not to step on a twig or another else that would give away, until finally she in position opposite Aerie. Then the red head came running out of the bushes, whooping and calling and making as noise as she could.

The cat slowly looked up and tilted its head as if asking itself 'what the hell is this?'. It had a good long while to calmly observe the apparently demented human bounding towards it, before deeming she had gotten too close for comfort and turning and springing away. He hadn't gotten fat when another biped leapt out and lunged at him…

But, nimble as the elf was the cat was even more so. He twisted to the side and easily avoided her, leaping off deeper into the woods whilst Aerie, catching nothing but air, landed on her chest and found herself sliding along the ground. She moments later pulled herself up onto her knees to find Imoen looming above and tapping her foot.

"I-I'm sorry," the elf panted, "I tried my best… h-he was just too quick for me…"

"You're right," Imoen said, a new look of resolve, "I've decided to face my fears. We can't let ourselves be humiliated by that thing… but we'll never catch it like this. I think we'll have to set a trap for it… now what to cats like?"

"Hm… p-podiums?"

"Be serious Aerie… how can we use a podium as bait? No… we need fish!"

--

A short while later, Purrpurrmrrrr (for this was the cat's name. He had once been known as Tiddums but had long ago rejected that slave name), picked up the fresh aquatic scent and started to follow. Before long though, he heard human voices. Swiftly climbing a tree, he looked down into a clearing where someone had placed a box, from where the cat knew the fishy smell was coming from. The box was on it's side, the lid held up open by a stick tied to some string. Also, he spotted the same two demented bipeds from before crouching behind some shrubs.

"… and then he goes in, I pull the string closing the lid and we've got him!" The one with red fur was saying.

"I-if you say so," said the yellow.

"Be optimistic Aerie! A smile's more useful than a frown, remember? Nothing can go wrong."

"S-something always does…"

"You're hopeless… but you'll see."

Purrpurrmrrrr didn't really understand the words they were saying, it was a very peculiar dialect they were using after all, but he definitely smelt something fishy besides the fish. He decided it was best to watch and wait for a while.

--

After nearly an hour of watching and waiting, Imoen and Aerie were getting tired. But then it seemed their patience had payed off, as they heard a rustling from across the clearing. The red head sat up, her whole body tense as she held carefully onto the string. Then it appeared… grey and ugly… a wolf. Just a skinny, mangy wolf.

"Damnit," Imoen hissed and stood up. It's snout was already just inside the box when she came running out to it. "Shoo! Get lost! This isn't for you!"

The canine yelped in surprise, turned and ran back the way it had came. During it's flight it disturbed a small group of birds who had been foraging in the undergrowth. These in turn flew out of the trees into the path of a wild horse who had been grazing at the edge of the forest. This flighty animal immediately thought it was under attack and bolted into the trees… it was fortunate that Aerie heard its hoof beats just seconds before it appeared in the clearing where Imoen was busy checking the trap.

"Look out!" The elf yelled and ran into the red head, her momentum just carrying them both out of the beasts path… a path which went straight across the wooden box they had prepared to trap the cat in, splintering it and throwing it's contents away several feet, towards the foot of a certain tree.

"I just… I don't believe it," Imoen said as she stood up, her eyes wide with shock. And then there he was… her nemesis falling out of the tree and landing on all fours right next to what had been her bait. "Why you little…!" She yelled and charged furiously. She was faster than Aerie, but sill wasn't fast enough. Again the feline easily avoided her and the red head had built up too much momentum to stop herself smashing head first into the unyielding bark. The cat made off with its prize while, as if to add a final exclamation mark to her complete and utter humiliation, an acorn fell from the tree and bounced off Imoen's head. "D'oh…"

"Imoen!" Aerie came running towards her friend. "Are… are you okay?"

"No Aerie, I'm not okay," the red head whimpered. Tears were welling up in her eyes. "I'm in an awful lot of pain in fact. Plus, I've been outwitted by an animal whose brain is probably no bigger than this acorn here…"

"There, y-you'll be alright," Aerie comforted her as she patted Imoen's head looking for injury. "You're not feeling faint at all?"

"No… just hurt and very upset…"

"Shh…I'll make you better," the elf said, gently resting Imoen's head against her chest and stroking her hair. "And remember, a smile is more useful than…"

"Don't make me want to strangle you."

Though bleary eyed and in intense pain, Imoen could still see it, the hateful creature, sitting in the shade finishing off the meal she had thoughtfully bought for it. Then it was looking at her through its evil green eyes. It was laughing at her wasn't it? She couldn't just take that, could she?

"You are not going to get away that easy!" She screamed, pushing Aerie off and taking off after her nemesis. The stunned elf had no choice but to run after them, although she soon found herself really struggling to keep up.

Imoen chased the cat all across the forest over hills and under ditches until eventually the animal ran out into another clearing where it was met with a sheer rock face. It ran up onto a ledge, but from there it couldn't reach the branches of any of the nearby trees. There was no way to go but back down the way it came; but there was the red head, her eyes glittering with insane hatred.

"I have you now," she hissed wickedly. Aerie stumbled into the clearing just seconds later.

"Wh… wh-what's happening?" The red faced elf panted, her hands falling down to her knees as she struggled to regain her breath.

"We've got him cornered, that's what! Now wait here," Imoen instructed as she placed her hand and foot against the rock.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Aerie pulled herself up, though she was still unsteady.

"I'm going to kill him," Imoen stated matter of factly and started to climb.

"Oh my… t-that must have been a worse blow to the head than I thought…" th elf said, but unfortunately she was far too exhausted to try and stop the red head.

Moments later, the cat reared back in horror as Imoen somehow managed to pull herself up onto the same ledge it rested on. Arching it's back and with its fur standing upright, the creature began to hiss aggressively.

"'Ere kitty, kitty," Imoen called out melodiously, "I've got a special treat for you… it's called a knife and it's just perfect for cutting off all that lovely fur," she cackled and started to swing. She missed, but immediately tried again and missed again. Tiddums, utterly terrified, kept backing away but he was rapidly running out of ledge… and then suddenly he was at the edge. "Aww… poor kitty. Time for some cat nip…"

And then, laughing madly, Imoen pounced forward to land the final blow… which she missed. Tiddums threw himself off the ledge, landing straight in Aerie's arms, to whom he clung desperately for protection. Meanwhile though, the red head had lost her balance. She fell but failed to land on anything so warm and soft and welcoming. Nor was she quite so adept at landing on her feet.

"You caught him then?"

Aerie's heart jumped suddenly; Ewan had suddenly appeared behind her. She held the cat, which was still shivering, close to her chest.

"I knew you would Miss Aerie," he said, smiling.

"Er, r-right," naturally she was very concerned about Imoen, who was lying face first on the ground and sobbing. "C-can you hold him for a moment?"

"Just put him here," he said, picking up a wooden box with a few small holes in. Inside was a nice warm bed of hay, where Tiddum's would feel a lot safer than he did outside anymore.

"Imoen," Aerie knelt beside her friend. The red head had suffered numerous small cuts and bruises all across her body. There was a huge lump on her fore head, and her left eye had swollen shut… amazingly though, nothing seemed to be broken. "I take it I'm allowed to heal her?" The elf pointedly asked their overseer.

"Of course," he said, still smiling.

"Aerie," Imoen somehow managed to speak, "we… we got him right?"

"Yes… we got him."

"I won," the red head said deliriously, "I… I beat a cat…"

Later, after Aerie had healed most of her wounds, the pair were escorted back to the castle to reminisce more on that day's glorious victory… but greater challenges were still to come.


	3. Chapter 3: Red and Dead

Some actual peril here, and some drama. Don't worry, I'll try to keep that stuff to a minimum (drama that is), but I'm afraid it is necessary for the overall arc of the story.

**The Twelve Labours of Imoen**

**~*~**

**Part Three: Red and Dead  
**

"Ohh, when I get my hands on Nalia I'm gonna spit in both of her eyes and then stamp on her hair and set fire to her face and shove a wand up her nose and… and any other nasty thing I can think of. And then I'll…"

Aerie, sat on her bed with the book she'd been trying to read resting on her legs, shook her head and sighed. Imoen had been pacing up and down and ranting like this ever since they got back to the castle. She wondered if it might not have been best to leave Imoen's wounds to heal on their own. They might have both gotten some rest and she'll have been able to finish this novel.

"Not allowing us to use magic… she knew full well how I am with cats. I'm telling you, she was trying to kill us!"

"No," Aerie spoke up all of a sudden. It was enough to shock Imoen into shutting up for a moment. "Na… Nalia may have been angry at what we did to her tapestry and she wants us to pay for it, b-but she would never try to kill us."

"You sure? I mean I'm sure she was a very nice person when you first met her… its funny how people can be extremely nice when they want someone to fight trolls for them. But now, she's 'a Lady'… all that power's probably gotten to her head."

"I-I…" Aerie wanted to speak up in defence of her friend, but found that she hesitated. Looking back she realised that perhaps Nalia had always put her own goals and ambitions above everything else in life, including friendship… and the elf had seen before how power could corrupt some people. But Nalia still just wanted to use her powers to help people, didn't she? Of course she did. "I'll never believe that," the blonde finally finished.

"Well I wish I had your faith in people, I really do. But who knows what she's got lined up for us next? We have to be prepared for anything, and… what are you doing?"

Aerie had put the book and gotten off the bed. She sat down on her knees and closed her eyes.

"I'm praying to Baervar," the elf explained, "L-like I do every night when the moon is at it's highest." She couldn't see the moon at all from the room they were in; the window was really just a slit so they couldn't climb out of it. But Aerie had become very familiar with the lunar cycles so always knew when it was time to pray.

"Well can't Baervar wait?" The red head protested. "I'm talking to you."

"I-it will only take a moment…"

"That's not the point… it's just rude him butting in like that in the middle of a conversation."

"R-rude?" Aerie repeated as she started turning red. Imoen knew full well about her faith and nightly routine and so to start complaining it now… "I-I'm sorry. I wasn't aware we were having a conversation, b-because a conversation is usually when two people are talking and listening to each other, whereas all I've been hearing is you ranting to yourself for four hours. And m-maybe if you did ever stop yakking for two seconds and listened to other people for a change we wouldn't be in this situation anyway."

Imoen did stop talking then. The red head glared at the elf, eyes wide and her mouth pursed and quirked to the side slightly. Aerie wasn't if she was angry or disgusted or both, and then she herself went pale again as she replayed everything she had just said in her mind.

"I-I'm sorry," the elf pleaded, withdrawing slightly, "I didn't… I-I didn't mean… it just came out…"

"It's fine," Imoen crossed her arms, "at least now I know what you really think of me. Obviously I'm a complete dunderhead. I'm surprised you waste any of your valuable time listening to me."

"I-I like listening to you… usually…"

"And obviously you don't need a dunderhead like me to look out for you anymore. I'm sure you can handle everything life has to throw at you by yourself. I think I'll go and sleep in the stable tonight," the red head said, picking up a pillow, "at least I know the horses won't try to suffocate me while I'm sleeping."

"Now who's being too sensitive… a-and anyway, it will be freezing…"

"I don't care."

"Imoen!" Aerie cried, but the red head was already out the door and slammed it after her. "Imoen… you are a dunderhead," the elf said, sagging. Of course, she still had to say her prayers, and so pulled herself up slightly for the moment it would take.

"Um… s-sorry about her," she shrugged apologetically as she looked up to the heavens.

After that, she tried to read her book again. But, in truth, she wasn't really getting into it. One of the butlers had recommended it, claiming there was a terrific twist. Aerie suspected she already knew what the twist was going to be by about page five. She decided to just skip to the end and sure enough it turned out the investigator was a ghost as well. It was hugely disappointing, and she had no interest in the rest of the story.

"Going somewhere miss?" The guard outside the room asked as soon as she'd opened the door.

"Uh… I-I just wanted to go to the library to find another book to read," the elf explained.

"Well, you know you are supposed to be confined to your quarters."

"But… d-didn't Imoen leave a little while ago?"

"Oh yes… she didn't look in a good mood so I thought it best not to get in her way. And I guess if you're really determined to go to the library then you'll probably turn me into a pig if I try to stop you, eh?"

"It's possible," she admitted.

"And I'd rather not end up as someone's breakfast tomorrow, so I tell you what. You just make sure the lady doesn't see you and I can pretend to have done my job. Deal?"

"Um… okay…"

"Right you are then. Off you go," the guard started whistling.

Aerie carefully made her way to the library, although Nalia in fact had already retired for the evening. The avariel used to read to herself every night when she was a girl… in fact, even though her mother told her it was good to read before going to bed, she found that very often she stayed up all night and all of the next day as the text carried her to a completely different world… and then she had to stop reading for a while. Her circus masters didn't think it was necessary for her. And when Quayle made her healthy again and started encouraging her to do the things she always enjoyed doing, there were unfortunately only a few books around. She knew all seventy nine Chiktikka Fastpaws stories off by heart.

The De'Arnise library however was very well stocked with books. Obviously not nearly as many as Candlekeep… after hearing Imoen talk about that place, Aerie knew she would have to go there some day. But still there was plenty of choice here for now. The elf spent a long time reading the spines looking for any title that jumped out at her.

"Perhaps I could recommend something?"

Aerie's heart jumped to her throat, but immediately settled back down again. It was only Ewan. He may have made her nervous earlier but she'd come to accept he was going to be a part of her life, at least until this was all over.

"But you know, you really should be sleeping. You'll have a long day tomorrow I'm afraid."

Okay, maybe he did still make her a bit nervous. Did he want anything in particular from her? Should she say anything? She couldn't think of anything…

"Oh I forgot… you elves don't sleep do you? What's it called that you do?"

"Er… r-reverie?" Aerie said, assuming he was referring to the self induced hypnosis her people often used in place of actual sleep.

"Right… I guess it must work for you since most elves I've met are quite alert."

"I… I wouldn't know."

"Excuse me?"

"Um… about t-the reverie. It's a skill most elves learn when they become adults. I… I never had a chance to," Aerie admitted. She was finding it a lot harder to talk to him than she ever did talking to Imoen… it wasn't his fault really. She didn't know him very well, and therein lay the problem. She had no reason to trust this man. "I'm a-afraid I just can't sleep."

"Oh… isn't that unusual though?"

"N-not being able to sleep? No it happens to me a lot…"

"No, I mean sleeping rather than reverie."

"Oh… I guess. But I prefer it really. I… I like the dreams I have sometimes. Of course sometimes n-not so much, but you have to take the rough with the green… o-or something like that I think…"

"Right… of course the other thing I should mention is that you really shouldn't be out here at all, although I'm not surprised that you are. It seems the local people have a lot of respect for you, as do I. I remember hearing about how it was you who single handedly defeated the demilich Kangaxx," he said with a small twinkle of admiration in his eye.

This was far worse than Aerie had imagined; he was one of those… what was it Imoen called them… fans? You did a few heroic deeds and then suddenly there were all these complete strangers asking for autographs, or asking if she could stand for a portrait with them as if she didn't have things of her own to do for the next six hours… she got chased out of Trademeet by a crowd of them once. They'd seen her standing next to that damn statue…

"I was hoping to get to know you better," Ewan carried on, "but it seems I make you uncomfortable, Miss Aerie. That being the case I will take my leave. Good night," he bowed and turned away.

Maybe she had misjudged him, Aerie thought. He seemed nice and polite enough really…

"No," Aerie said after taking a deep breath, "I-I'm sorry… I've been rude. It's just… I-I'm not really used to talking to strangers. Really, I-Imoen is the only person I usually have conversations with," and that was the truth, despite what she'd earlier. Whenever she was feeling down or needed to get something off her chest, there was always Imoen who would listen no matter how trivial it seemed. And the red head would always do something to cheer her up, giving her a hug whenever it looked like she needed one.

"You know, I have spoken with Lady Nalia," Ewan said tactfully, "and she's well aware that if it wasn't for Imoen's influence you'd have never gotten involved in all this. I'm sure if you were to go and apologise…"

"No," the Avariel interrupted immediately, "I-I know if I was to say I'm sorry then Nalia might let me go… but I can't leave Imoen to face things alone. She… she's done so much for me that I have to at least support her."

"She got you thrown in jail…"

"Yes," Aerie had forgotten she was confined to her room, "but… i-it doesn't matter. Imoen does foolish things sometimes… a-and sometimes she's really annoying. But she's still my best friend and I have to help her," besides, she thought, she didn't want to look back on her life in years and realise it had been boring. With Imoen around, things were always sure to be much more exciting than any circus.

"You're a very good and loyal friend, Miss. I'm not sure I could be so forgiving in your place," Ewan rubbed his face below his mouth, "still, I know she's your best friend but I hope you realise you can't remain attached to her forever. Sooner or later you'll have to be your own person… good night, Miss Aerie. And I wish you the best of luck."

--

Aerie wasn't sure what he'd meant, but didn't spend much time dwelling on it. She returned to her room and immediately went to sleep.

The next morning, she and Imoen were led to the teleportation chamber… it was a room Aerie had helped Nalia to design that allowed magical transportation from the keep to anywhere within several hundred miles… of course, unless there was a similar device at the other end it was very hard to be precise about where you ended up. It was a limitation of magical teleportation that you had to know, _exactly_, where it was you wanted to go. Be able to picture it in your mind down to the smallest detail. Otherwise you could easily end up half buried inside a rock. The device however was able to eliminate that danger by sending a pulse ahead to push aside any obstacles… although if you were careless it was still possible to end up inside a newly created cave without any exit.

For the next task, they were teleported into the countryside many miles away to the south east. Ewan had some scrolls with him that would allow them to return when the task was complete. Although they had hoped to land on the main road, they ended up in the woods some distance away and it took a while to find it. Aerie hadn't yet summoned up the courage to speak to Imoen, and the red head was pointedly ignoring her anyway. Overhead were heavy grey clouds.

"Your next task I'm afraid may be rather more dangerous than the last one," Ewan explained, his eyes shifting to each side, "you see, we've recently gotten reports of some kind of monster roaming these parts, and so you've been sent to kill it."

"Monsters? Danger?" Imoen mused. "Good… stuff we're used to. So long as it's not another cat."

"Hm… w-what kind of monster?" Aerie asked.

"Don't know," Ewan admitted, "so far, I don't think anyone who's seen it has lived to tell about it."

"But we can use magic for this one, right?" Imoen was checking.

"Oh yes," Ewan was quick to respond; obviously he would never have come out here if that wasn't the case.

"Right," the red head rolled up her sleeves, "you just leave the little fella' to us then. We'll get this done quick and be back in time for lunch and then a nap… I really didn't sleep well last night because of the smell and me shivering all the time."

"Right… well, there should be a little hamlet up ahead. Good a place as any for you to start looking I suppose. I'll just make myself scarce," and moments later he was gone, leaving the two women to continue down the road alone.

"Imoen," Aerie found the courage to say at last, "I'm… I'm sorry about what I said last night."

"It's alright," the red head smiled warmly, "I know I completely overreacted. It was just I was still upset about the cat and… you know, stress and everything."

"Me too."

"So, friends again?"

"Yes," Aerie grinned happily.

"And let's never fight again."

"Okay."

"Pinky promise?"

"Oh… alright," the elf sighed as they linked pinky fingers. "Y-you know… some day we will have to start acting like adults."

"And stop having fun?" Imoen gasped. "Never."

And with all that resolved amicably, the two pressed on.

"It's very quiet," Aerie commented. "No birds…"

"Well, look at the sky," Imoen said, "there's probably a storm coming so they've all cleared out."

"Maybe… still, I-I'd have expected to have seen or heard something living by now…"

In the hamlet there were no signs of life either. The buildings lay empty and silent, there was not even a breeze and no bodies. The tavern, usually the centre of life in settlements somehow seemed like an empty husk that had been left to decay.

"It's all so grey and still," said Aerie, "I feel like we've walked into someone's tomb." The elf bent down next to a garden gate to inspect a thin rope tied to the fence. She realised there had been an animal attached to it once… the rope had snapped. Or possibly, something had snatched the poor creature away.

"At least we know we're on the right track," said Imoen, always seeing the bright side even when there was none.

And then, to their relief, came signs of life. The baahing of sheep quickly drawing nearer… actually, rather panicked baahing. And then the herd came over the hill like a thick white cloud descending on the hamlet, and showing no signs of stopping for anything.

"We should get out the way," Imoen suggested.

"Yes," Aerie agreed, and they darted in opposite directions away from the road. The whole herd squeezed between the buildings and rumbled past, the ones at the front pushed forward by the momentum of the ones just behind them. One animal tripped and fell, only to be trampled on by its neighbours. There was no following the leader here; these were clearly terrified animals in flight. They were gone as quickly as they came, allowing both women to come out of their hiding places and watch them leave.

"Why were they in such a hurry?" Imoen asked, and winced immediately. She really needed to stop asking those kind of stupid, dumb questions. "Aerie?"

"Y-yes."

"There's something right behind me isn't there?"

"Yes," the Avariel said, eyes fearfully wide.

"Do I want to look?"

"Probably not… b-but I think you should."

And so Imoen did so. She turned around and opened her eyes and looked. And then she looked up. And then up some more… and a little more until she found herself staring into the grey, glazed over eyes of the dragon.

It was not a typical dragon. Typically, you were not able to see the ribs of an actual living specimen. The bright red scales of this one had dulled somewhat, and in various places its skin hung off the exposed bone like a tattered coat. Spears and arrows were embedded in its sides, the creature not even conscious off them. It reared up, spreading out its wings… although the membrane had already decayed leaving just two long and bony rods on its back.

It brought down its huge front limb like a club, trying to crush the two adventurers. Imoen was quick to react, bringing into being a shimmering blue globe encompassing Aerie and herself. The force of the creature shook the earth as it struck, pressing the sphere a few centimetres into the earth, but the two inside were unharmed… for now.

"I don't know how long I can keep this up!" Imoen grimaced as the creature kept pressing downwards.

Aerie launched a barrage of spells… missiles, lightning bolts, jets of flame, shards of ice. They smashed into the creature tearing away large chunks of flesh, but still it continued trying to break through the sphere, not even flinching once.

"My spells do nothing!" The elf gasped, the panic evident in her face and voice.

"You'd better think of something, Aerie!" Imoen strained, "this things going to give any moment now."

"I don't…" Aerie shook her head desperately. The nature of the creature was apparent; she had already tried calling on Baervar's gift to repulse the undead, but this thing was too large for it to have any effect. She realised with great regret that although it might mean making a sacrifice, there were was only one course of action left for her now. She ran.

"What the hell!?" Imoen called out angrily.

But, as Aerie suspected, the creature, driven only by its predatory instincts, couldn't resist a moving target and so immediately turned away from Imoen to start pursuing the elf, the red head ducking as its tail swiped over her.

Although the elf ran as fast as she could, it wasn't long before her legs and her chest started to ache. The undead creature was utterly tireless. It could go on chasing her until its limbs crumbled to dust. Eventually, with every last reserve of her energy spent, Aerie collapsed into a ditch, the dragon shortly behind her, and lay still. She couldn't move anymore anyway… she had no choice but to wait for the killing blow. At least, she thought, she had gotten to see a little of the world outside the circus.

But the Gods were not prepared to let their servant die that day… at least not yet. A nearby horse bolted at the sight of the approaching monster, and so the dragon's sight fixed on that instead. Aerie was unaware of this, and for a long time she lay there wondering why she hadn't been finished off and too exhausted to count her blessings. She had actually just drifted off to sleep, when someone shook her awake again.

"Don't go running off like that," Imoen snapped and knelt in the ditch next to her. Of course, Imoen knew Aerie too well to think the Avariel would actually think about abandoning her. They could still the creature in the distance. "Is that…?"

"Firkraag," Aerie confirmed. She had recognised him almost immediately. "O-or his body anyway… it's just a zombie now."

"If it's a zombie then there should be someone controlling it."

"I don't think there is… m-maybe something happened to them. Maybe even attempting to raise such a beast destroyed them. Now… now I think it's wandering aimlessly, obeying only i-its basest instincts. Attacking and killing anything it sees."

"Well, I suppose the good news is since its dead there no reactions taking place inside there, so it can't breathe fire. It can't fly since its wings have rotted, and it has memory or intelligence to speak of so it can't cast spells."

"A-and the bad news is it never sleeps or stops to take a rest, a-and, like other undead creatures, the only way to stop it is by completely destroying the brain."

"Right… how thick is a dragon's skull again?"

"Too thick for anything we have to get through."

"Well we can't let that thing keep rampaging… its bound to hit a town or a city at some point."

"I know," Aerie sighed. She knew it was vital they stopped the monster. She realised as well that they didn't actually have to get through its skull… the problem really was getting it to open its jaws. She couldn't just go up and ask it to say 'ahhh'… or could she? But then there was the problem that neither she nor Imoen were really expert shots, so they'd have to get really close to the creature. Too close… "I… I have an idea," the elf announced, standing up.

"I hope its better than Minsc's idea to make swim wear for hamsters."

"I-it is… listen," Aerie leant close to her friend, and whispering into her ear uttered the word, "_Sleep._" For an instant, Imoen's eyes shot wide open as she realised Aerie had actually tricked her, and then the spell took effect and they flicked shut.

--

Aerie stood in plain sight of the creature as it was devouring the poor horse. Throwing the rest of the carcass away, it immediately started lumbering towards her, an eerie moan resonating around the hills.

This was the hardest part of the plan; if she didn't get this right it was all over. When the creature was close, she started to chant, raising in her arms either side. She watched as the creature raised its arm and started to swing with its claw. She jumped at just the right second and was now in the creatures grasp, the stone skin she had cast preventing her from being crushed right away. Even so, she was finding it very hard to breathe, but at least her arms were free.

Raising her sling, she started to chant again; neither she nor Imoen were expert shots, but Aerie knew she was slightly better. Jaheira seemed to have taken a special interest in training the Avariel, and Aerie had suffered more than a few bumps and bruises as a result; she had to wonder if the druid didn't just enjoy beating the hell out of her. But anyway, she was really the logical choice to do this.

The stone in her other hand started to glow, first orange, then yellow, and then a brilliant white. Placing it in the sling, she took aim, ignoring the pain from the pressure her body was under. Slowly the dragon started to open its jaws as it lifted her towards its very impressive teeth. Although it was hard to breathe, she was in agony and honestly terrified, she hadn't woken up this morning thinking she was going to be anyone's dinner after all… despite all that she knew she had to wait until just the right moment. It seemed to take forever, all the while those teeth getting bigger… until, there! The missile was launched, flying past the monsters tonsils. Once she was sure it was inside, Aerie uttered the final words to her spell. A brilliant white light shot out from within, melting the dragon's eyes into vapour. For the last time ever Firkraag actually breathed fire, mercifully just missing Aerie. With steam rising from its mouth and nostrils and the holes where its eyes had been, it let her go as its whole body collapsed, throwing up a mound of earth around it as it hit the ground. The elf found herself half buried under it.

Perhaps she was unconscious for a few minutes. When she came to Aerie pulled herself free of the earth and stumbled along the ground, her whole body coughing and heaving. She had cracked quite a few ribs and fluid was leaking into her lungs… since she was unable to speak, she needed to find a healing potion, and fast.

"Here," Imoen, evidently recovered from the spell of Aerie's, arrived in the nick of time. Aerie drank deep from the bottle her friend handed over. Her constantly instantly improved. "Feeling better?"

"Y-yes," the Avariel nodded.

"Good," Imoen helped the blonde to her feet, then slapped her hard across the cheek, knocking her back down again and breaking the promise they had made. "What's wrong with you?! I thought you'd gotten over that! But the way you've been acting today…"

"O-over what?" The elf asked, still in a state of shock.

"All that believing your life's worthless so it's okay to throw it away like that… it might be easy for you, but do you think at all about the people you'd leave behind?" Imoen screamed at her, fighting back the tears in her eyes. "It's selfish… that's all it is."

"I'm sorry…"

"I always take care of you… if you go and get yourself killed like that it makes me look like a failure."

"I'm sorry," Aerie repeated, her hand against where her cheek still stung. At least the rest of her body didn't seem to hurt so much anymore. "Y-you're right… I didn't think. I just… i-it didn't need two of us, so there was no point in us both risking our lives."

"Aerie…" Imoen sniffed and tried to compose herself. "Why didn't you just tell me what you wanted to do instead of tricking me like that?"

"W-would you have let me do it?"

"No."

"That's why."

"If you do anything like that ever again, I'll knock your whole head off. Got it?"

"G-got it."

"Good," the two shared a smile together. "Now I'm hungry... let's go get some lunch."


	4. Chapter 4: Simon the Sorcerer

This chapter probably goes on a bit too long; I may have been able to cut most of the stuff at the beginning, but I figured it was important to show that Nalia's not just being a total bitch about all this, and that Imoen and Aerie do have good times together. Anyway, hope you enjoy :)

**The Twelve Labours of Imoen**

**~*~**

**Part Four: Simon the Sorcerer  
**

"Maybe we should call this whole thing off," Nalia sat worriedly upon her throne, "I'm sure they've learnt their lesson now."

"After just two tasks, my lady?" Major Domo raised an eyebrow. Although she was the Lady of these lands, he was the man who really took care of most of the day to day administration. She was nobility after all; it just wasn't proper for her to be concerned with accounts and taxes and work and maintenance and supplies and storage and… basically he did everything. Although Nalia could always overrule him on anything, her role in the estate was really more as a figurehead for the local people and an ambassador.

"A zombie dragon?!" The lady gasped, as if it was clear that was enough.

"Of course, no one was expecting that. But it is not as if they've not faced great danger before."

"But I'm the one sending them out there!"

"It's not as if you've not done that before either…"

"I'm aware of that! Even so… it was my wish that they be punished, but not executed. I'm beginning to think I may have overreacted to the whole thing…"

"If I may be so bold my Lady… was not the point for them to repay their debt by being of service to the community? By destroying that creature they've certainly been that."

"And so? Don't you think it's enough?"

"Lady De'Arnise," Lord Windbreaker drawled from across the room. He helped himself to a chicken leg, stuffed the whole thing in his mouth and pulled out the bone, stripping all the meat in one easy movement. Nalia scowled at him. To the cooks relief, he was the only one of the committee who had stayed behind in order to see Imoen's punishment carried out. "I understand you were at one time friends with the condemn… I mean, the convicted criminals. Must I remind you however that we were promised twelve tasks be performed as compensation for our embarrassment. Or there will be no deal, and no new road. We will take our business to the Roenall's instead."

"And it was all done legally, My Lady," Domo added, "the action has been approved by the chief magistrate herself. Failing to enforce it will not only lose you respect in the eyes of the commoners here, but amongst your peers as well… whose support you will need if you ever hope to run for a seat on the Council of Six."

"I know Domo," Nalia's head rolled back wearily, "it's just… they were my friends."

"This is the burden a Lady must bear," Domo said supportively, "you wer born to serve the entire people. You can not show any favouritism… the same law must apply to everyone."

"I know," the Lady sighed. Closing her eyes, she thought on the ten tasks that remained. On paper at least, none of them sounded like they could possibly be more dangerous than a zombie dragon. "I made my decision, and I have to see it through. We will go on as planned."

--

Imoen and Aerie had most of the next day off. The whole business with the dragon and their little spats before and after had helped relieve some of their anxiety and tension; Imoen wasn't even that mad at Nalia anymore. They were still confined to their rooms of course and so spent most of it in conversation, mainly trading stories about their respective childhoods (when they actually were children), and memories of some of the adventures they had shared together. They had heard almost all the stories before, but there were a few they never got tired of telling or of listening to.

"That time my brother came outside and he was only wearing a gown," Imoen reminisced, "I'd found this really old looking coin on the ground so I called him over to take a look at it. I showed him where it was and so he bent over to take a look at it…"

"Then what happened?" Aerie asked. She knew full well what happened, but she still found it funny.

"Well… I couldn't resist, could I? I pulled his gown off. I was stood there laughing, and he got so mad he didn't even bother to try and cover himself up… he started yelling and running after me. Poor Phlydia… it must have been sp long since she's seen on of those… then suddenly seeing this naked boy running past her… I don't think she really saw much though. It was the middle of winter, but he just wouldn't stop chasing me. I could see how mad he was, so I had to think of a way to lose him. I threw the gown away hoping he'd stop for it… which he did. But when I threw it, the wind carried it up and it landed on the rook of the priests quarters. So, you know what the bufflehead does?"

"What?"

"He climbs up after it… but the only way was to climb past the window. Inside I could see the priests were eating, and then they stopped suddenly, forks halfway to their mouths when this naked teenage boy was suddenly pressed against the glass."

"Heh… i-it was his own fault, really," Aerie giggled, "he… he should have just gone back in instead of running after you."

"That's why I like you Aerie… you're sensible like that. If only you'd been a monk. But they blamed me for all of it. I got a cane across my palms and then had to chisel 'I will not steal other people's clothes' into fifty stone tablets."

"The monks hit you with a cane?" The avariel gasped.

"That's how they do things in a monastery Aerie. It's alright… it only stung a bit. It was supposed to deter me from any more 'antics'."

"A-and did it?" The elf asked, even though she had first hand experience of the fact that it didn't.

"Nope… but I guess it did make me a lot more careful not to get caught."

Later they decided to go and relax by the river, the guard outside the door saying it was fine and asking them nicely not to run off and to be back before sunset.

"Come on!" Imoen cried, as her paper boat pulled next to Aerie's. "Yes, that's it! Yes, yes… YES! I win!" Her fist pumped the air. "Take that elf girl. What does that make the score?"

"I… I don't know," Aerie shook her head in disbelief as she watched Imoen's boat hit the grate under the bridge first… again.

"I think you'll find that I have won six, and you haven't won any."

"I-if you say so," the elf said, pretending not to care. She just couldn't believe it though… the boats were identical and yet somehow the current always pulled Imoen's boat along faster. How could anyone be that lucky? Had Aerie's gods abandoned her all of a sudden? "You must be doing something…"

"Ha! I never thought you'd be such a sore loser Aerie," the red head told her as she leant over to fish the boats out with a stick so they could have another race.

Aerie had other ideas though; a couple more wins and Imoen would start with her victory dance, and no one wanted to see that. The red head sometimes said that the reason she spent so much time with the elf was that she knew that, underneath that good mannered, patient, thoughtful exterior was a little hell raiser yearning to be free. If that were true, then maybe the hell raiser might cause Aerie to 'accidentally' bump into Imoen as she was leaning over the water, and… SPLASH!

"Oh… I-I'm so sorry," Aerie said, covering her mouth so that Imoen couldn't see her grinning.

"Do you think this is funny?!" The red head demanded to know, steam rising around her as she stood up in the water.

"Hm… m-maybe a little," the elf admitted. And, although she hadn't planned it that way, she also sensed an opportunity. "Why… d-do you not find it funny when you're the victim of a joke?"

"I," Imoen shut her eyes, "I'm sorry, okay? Next time I have an idea like the one three days ago, and you're not comfortable with it, then we won't do it, okay? Now please, give a hand…"

"No," the elf pointedly folded her arms.

"No? What do you mean 'no'? I just promised I'd listen to you from now on, didn't I?"

"I-if I give you my hand you'll pull me in."

"I… the waters cold, Aerie. I just want to get out of it… I promise I won't pull you in, okay?"

"Well… I guess if it's cold," the elf's concern for her friends health overrode her other concerns.

"Thank you," Imoen took her hand. "And Aerie?"

"Yes?"

"I was lying about not pulling you in."

"I feared as much," the elf sighed, and then Imoen tugged her into the cold water.

After a good while spraying each other, the two finally scrambled up the banks and made their way back. Unfortunately the water was cold, and it made their clothes very heavy. By the time they were back in confinement they were exhausted and shivering.

"Y-you're right," Imoen chattered through her teeth, "we should start acting like adults."

--

Ewan arrived to pick them up for the next task around late afternoon. By then they had changed clothes and spent the intervening sat next to a stone warmed by their magic. They didn't have to go very far; just to one of the houses in the local village.

"That's it?" Imoen asked, astounded, "we're babysitting?"

"That's it," Ewan nodded, "his name's Simon, he's ten years old, the son of a merchant and all you have to do is watch him for the night and see he comes to no harm. I figured you needed a break after the last one…"

"I don't trust you, bufflehead… what's the catch?"

"Catch? There's no catch really…"

"You said 'see he comes to no harm'. That means we're expecting someone to try and do him harm, right?"

"Well, you're never safe these days. Not even in your own homes… it may be that certain organizations have made threatening insinuations in regards to the boy. But I highly doubt anyone will try anything while you're around."

"Anything else?"

"Well… other than that all his previous minders quit… no, nothing really."

"Alright," Imoen decided they might as well just get it done, "lets go meet the little devil."

Ewan led them inside the house and into the front room where their ward for the night was waiting. There were two of the De'Arnise guards outside who Ewan explained would be off duty in about an hour, and then straight off to the tavern no doubt.

"Simon?" Ewan said. The boy, reclining in his arm chair with his feet not nearly touching the ground, looked up. He was dressed in black robes with silver chains and a medallion around his neck. His dark eyes flashed past Ewan to the women.

"Who are they?" He demanded.

"These are the ladies who are taking care of you tonight."

"I don't like them," Simon snorted. "The blonde one's got this weird shifty look about her and the red one smells of pee."

"Aerie and Imoen."

"And I do not smell of pee!" Imoen protested; it was already clear why all the previous minders had quit. "I'll have you know I bathed in the river just this afternoon."

"This river?" The boy sounded disgusted. "Great… so now all the water is going to stink too…"

"You…!" Imoen was about to dash and strangle the boy, but Ewan got in the way.

"You're not allowed to kill him… unfortunately," he sighed. Obviously he'd had some experience himself at dealing with this customer. "I have to go now, but when I come back tomorrow Simon has to be in the house and still living for you to have completed this task. Oh, and again you cannot use magic for this task except in the unlikely case of you having to defend yourselves. Thankfully he'll be leaving for the city tomorrow, but it would look really bad for Lady Nalia if something were to happen to him here."

"Whatever," Imoen glared at the kid. It was probably more likely he would need defending from her… but she managed to compose her self. It was just a boy. The two of them should be able to handle him.

"So, Simon," she said after Ewan had left, "what time do you go to bed?"

"When I'm tired," he snapped, "And you have to make me dinner first. And you have to entertain me."

"Entertain you? Fine… you got any games we can play?"

"Games!? What, do you think I'm still nine years old or something? I don't play games anymore."

"Fine… what do you want to do then?"

"She's an elf, isn't she? Elves can sing."

"N-not this one I'm afraid," Aerie shook her head, "I hum sometimes… b-but I never sing. And it's n-not really nice to stereotype a people in that way you know…"

"N-n-not n-nice?" Simon mockingly imitated her. "Why do you talk like that? You stupid or something?"

"She can't help it," Imoen said, her steam levels rising again, "Aerie's one of the cleverest witches there is… she's also my friend, so if you make fun of her again I'll forget all about the task and the rules and zap a big hole in your chest, got it?"

"Y-you…" Simon stuttered, but he wasn't mocking this time. His face was contorted with shock, outrage and perhaps even some envy. "You can't talk like that to me! Do you know who my father is!?"

"Ask your mother."

"I-its alright," Aerie stepped in again as mediator between the two, who were firing darts at each other through their eyes. "I'm fine. I see you like wolves, S-Simon."

"What?" He blinked, surrendering the staring contest to Imoen. Spread out on the little table were a number of carvings of wolves, paintings and even the empty mug on the table had wolves on it. "I guess."

"These are all yours?" Aerie reached out to pick up one of the wooden figurines.

"Don't touch them!" He shouted, slapping her hand away. "You'll disturb the whole pack hierarchy. If that happens, there'll have to be a fight to establish the new order. It took all day to work out the order they're in now."

"Er… r-really?"

"Of course… don't you know anything? See the big one in front? He's the alpha male. None of the others can beat him."

"Do your toys have names?" Imoen asked innocently.

"I told you, I'm not nine. And these are not toys! No one is allowed to touch them except me!"

"Oh no… look!" Imoen gasped and raised her hand to cover her mouth theatrically. "I'm touching the alpha male! Oh my gosh… what's going to happen to me!?"

"Imoen!" Aerie narrowed her eyes, though it was hard to stop her amusement from showing through the rest of her face. "You shouldn't tease him like that… i-it's obviously important to him."

"Oh… alright," Imoen released the pack leader. Who knew… maybe some of Aerie's persistent niceness would rub off on the boy and he'd at least become a little more bearable.

"I like your medallion," the elf said to him.

"This thing?" Simon lifted the silver chain. "My dad gave it to me."

"H-he must really care a lot about you."

"Because of this? You really are dumb, aren't you? It looks stupid, but he makes me wear it all the time. That's probably why he makes me wear it. He hates me."

"Now how could anyone hate a nice young man like you?" Imoen said in that peculiar manner people use when talking to babies, pursing and moving her lips like a fish.

"Er… w-why are you going to Athkatla, Simon?" Aerie again changed the subject.

"Going to a mage school," he explained while giving Imoen the evil eye.

"Really? A-at your age?"

"I'm very bright for my age, apparently. I'm certainly not as dumb as you two look."

"Well… i-it must be sad, leaving all your friends and your family behind."

"Not really," he shrugged, "My family all hate me and I don't have any friends."

"Oh, I wonder why?" Imoen rolled her eyes.

"'hem," Aerie coughed, trying her best not to grin. "But I get the feeling you don't really want to go…"

"Don't want to be a wizard… magic's so boring."

"M-magic? Boring?" The elf said, truly stunned.

"Having to dress stupidly and read dusty old books all the time."

"W-what's wrong with that?"

"Oh, nothing… if you're a girl. I want to learn how to fight with swords and crossbows!"

"But… w-with magic you can melt swords and send crossbow bolts flying back to their owners."

"Bah… you'd be cut to pieces before you could cast any of those spells."

"Well… l-lots of people have tried to do that…"

"The best heroes always win with swords."

"I-it's a matter of opinion of course… my favourite heroes are the ones who use their minds to win."

"Yeah, well while your heroes are sat around thinking mine will be cutting their heads right off. You're just stupid, so I'm not talking to you anymore. I have to go to the toilet."

"It was good of you to try being nice," Imoen consoled Aerie as they waited outside for Simon to finish his business. "But he just won't have it, will he?"

"I don't understand him at all," the elf sighed. "It's going to be a long night, isn't it?"

"Nah… I figure he'll get tired pretty soon and want to go to bed. Then we can have some peace."

But, hours later:

"I want cheese!" Simon, standing straight with his arms at his sides and his fists balled up, demanded.

"I've told you," Imoen groaned, "we don't have any cheese."

"But I want some!"

"Tough!"

"I want some cheese!"

"Saying it again and again doesn't change the reality of the situation… there is no cheese!"

"You can go and buy some!"

"I'm not going out at this time just to buy cheese… you'll just have to do without."

"You're supposed to take care of me!"

"There are a lot things I'm supposed to do… I'm supposed to be tall and beautiful and married to a rich prince, but I guess things don't always pan out like we expect them to."

"I want cheese!"

"I'm not going through this again! What you want, buffle head, is to be hit with a good stick!" Imoen couldn't believe the words coming out of her mouth; she was starting to sound like one of those old folks always complaining about the younger generation. Of course, when they'd complained about her it was just because they were all buffle headed; kids these days though were real brats.

"Aerie! Where are you going?" Imoen called out, spying her friend apparently trying to sneak out.

"Um… i-it's time for me to pray," she explained, "I won't be very long."

"Alright," the red head sighed. She knew she'd been unfair to Aerie before; Baervar had been there to comfort her when she had no one else, so a couple of minutes each night devoted to him was hardly much to ask. "Just please make sure you are back soon… I don't know if I can trust myself not to do serious harm to this kid if I'm alone too long."

"I'll be faster than Chiktikka Fastpaws!" Aerie grinned and skipped out the door.

"Who's Chiktikka Fastpaws?" Simon fell into his chair again. Imoen wasn't sure, but it did look like he was finally getting tired.

"It's a Raccoon," she explained. Now that she thought about it, Baervar and Chiktikka were famous for being the pranksters amongst the gnomish pantheon. Maybe that was why Aerie liked Imoen so much; she was almost the living embodiment of her God. Of course, the actual divine blood in her veins was of an altogether different nature…

"You two are both adventurers, right?" Simon yawned. "You battle baddies and monsters?"

"Yup. Keeping the world safe so that you can go on annoying people."

"So… who would win if you had a fight?"

"What?"

"You and Aerie… if you had an actual fight, who would win?"

"Well, we'd never have any reason to fight…"

"If one of you was being mind controlled or something…"

"It'll just never happen."

"But if it did, who would win?"

"Alright, fine," Imoen knew how persistent he was. He just wouldn't stop until he got a damn answer. "If it did happen, then I suppose I would win."

"Really?"

"Sure… I mean don't get me wrong, Aerie's pretty good with all her magic and she can heal herself which I can't. But, she gets tired real quickly so I think I'd take her," in fact Imoen had gone over the battle in her head a few times before, identifying all Aerie's weaknesses. When you fought alongside someone, watched them in action, you couldn't help making comparisons and wondering who was really better. Of course, they'd never really fight. "Plus she's Avariel so her bones are really light; even I've no problem picking her up and throwing her around."

The Avariel in question quietly padded back inside at that point; as she'd said, her nightly prayers only really took a few minutes.

"Her, Aerie," Simon called to her, "Imoen says she could beat you in a fight."

"Er… s-she did?"

"She said she could throw you around and beat you up like you were an old doll or something, because you're so weak."

"She did?" It was as if someone pressed a switch inside Aerie; the usually passive, mild mannered elf suddenly narrowed her eyes and her face became hard as stone. She knew she wasn't really tough, but she still hated being called 'weak'. She'd spent all her time since leaving the circus trying to prove to her self and everyone else that she could manage and hold her own; she had a lot to learn but she tried her best at anything she was required to do.

"Hey, buffle head," Imoen gritted her teeth at Simon, "that's not what I said! Not exactly anyway…"

"I-it's funny," Aerie said, "It's usually Imoen who's lying on the ground piteously moaning, 'Oh… I-I'm weak enough without my wounds'."

"I know I've the body of a girl, not am ogre," the red head explained, "Unlike certain people who can't accept reality, insist they can carry everything and then drop it all and start crying about it. And lets not forget, every time she walks up a hill it's 'my legs are just aching… I've never walked so much in my life…'"

"At least I try pulling my own weight around… i-instead of relying on my brother to save me all the time. I certainly don't think you should be so confident of beating me."

"Oh, come on Aerie. You've never beaten me at anything. Ever."

"Only because you cheat! O-or you twist the rules of any game we play so that you always have the advantage."

Simon helped himself to a snack, and just a short while later:

Imoen jumped backwards just as Aerie's thrust struck her shoulder; her own movement helped to absorb most of the momentum but it still hurt her. The two started circling each other, staff's at the ready. They had agreed not to break the no magic rule, so they were just fighting with their weapons. It was pretty dangerous to use living magic on each other anyway.

The red head had sparred with Aerie before, and had a strategy which had always worked. It was true that the elf was a little more skilled than her, but Imoen was that little bit faster. All she had to do was stay just out of Aerie's reach until the Avariel wore herself out. Aerie knew her own weaknesses too, and usually went all out to try and end a fight quickly.

But this time was different; Aerie wasn't chasing after her like she usually would. She was staying back and forcing Imoen to come to her more often. And of course, there was more at stake here than just pride. There was the whole pack, wolf, hierarchy thing… if Aerie won she might decide that she was the boss. And Imoen knew Aerie wouldn't back down now; though usually she seemed meek and timid, when Aerie had picked up a weapon and battle was joined she rarely backed down until she had absolutely nothing left to give. It was like she was a different person; maybe because she wasn't thinking and worrying about the thousands of things she usually did and just let her instincts take over.

Imoen decided to change her strategy as well. She charged ahead, Aerie blocking her staff but the red heads greater weight and momentum knocked the elf onto her backside. The blonde reacted quickly though, sliding to the side and tripping Imoen. With both of them on the ground, they ended up discarded their weapons as they rolled about and struggled for dominance. Aerie got on Imoen's back, but the red head flipped her over. Imoen rushed across to try and pin her, but as she approached the elf kicked with both her legs sending her sprawling back again. When they got to their knees, they mutually agreed to let each other catch their breaths. They sat in opposite corners of the room panting and glaring at each other. Imoen really hoped Simon was being sufficiently entertained by all this…

"Hey, wait!" She cried out suddenly.

"W-what is it?"

"Buffle heads gone!" Imoen pointed to the empty arm chair.

--

_Dummies!_

Simon laughed to himself as he sprinted through the woods. He'd had adventurers look after him before and he'd learnt there was always at least some rivalry between them. They were just big children really, not really concerned with politics and taxes and all the other grown up stuff.

It was quite sad in a way; Aerie was the nice one, but he was pretty sure the big mouthed Imoen would win eventually. But by then he'd be long gone; if he kept going in a straight line he'd find the path, which would take him to the old dirt road. And then he'd get a lift somewhere, learn to fight with swords and become an adventurer. Only he'd never be as dumb as those two.

Just keep going straight… it sure was dark though. And as the forest became darker and deeper he realized that he should have found the path five minutes ago. But he'd been going straight… he must have just miscalculated the distance. He should take a rest anyway.

He sat against a tree stump for a minute or two, catching his breath. Then the sound of a twig snapping caused him to jump up…

"Er… h-hello?" Silence answered him. "Heh… p-probably just a rabbit or an owl or something…" But unless rabbits were good impressionists, the next sound he heard sounded distinctly like the howl of a wolf. He had to find that path… but when he turned around… there were just trees, trees, and more trees in every direction. He had no idea which direction he'd come from or where he was going...

Oh no, there was something. Eyes. Big green eyes looking at him from the shadows… he turned and ran. Behind him it he could hear it snarling and running after him. What had he done?

Although he had tears streaming down his cheeks, after a while he did start feeling more confident. It was falling behind, so he was actually faster than the animal. A little more and he'd lose it altogether… but he'd forgotten what he'd read. These animals used strategy to catch prey.

Sure enough, another wolf soon leapt out at him, just missing his throat but knocking the wind out of him. The other wolves had been herding him into a trap. Desperately, Simon tried to scramble up a mound, brushing aside the fallen leaves… but then he felt it biting into his shin and dragging him back down. It hurt so much… he sobbed and waited. It would probably bite his neck next…

But then there was a sound like lightning cracking, and the next thing Simon knew he could smell burning hair and flesh. The wolf collapsed on the ground next to him, its jaw hanging open as it lay perfectly still. However, there were more howls closing in.

"There's a lot of them tonight," Aerie commented.

"It's all that committees fault," Imoen groaned, "they had all the deer's hunted so now there's nothing for the wolves to eat except us."

The rest of the pack came bursting out of the shadows, tongues hanging loose and snarling. Lightning erupted from Imoen's finger tips, leaping from beast to beast.

"I'm clear here," she announced. "Need any help with yours?"

"I-I'm okay," Aerie returned, sending one of the animals that had leapt at her smashing into a tree trunk with her mace, then throwing orbs of energy after another. The rest of the pack soon turned and ran off in search of easier prey.

"It got me!" Simon wailed. "Oh gods… I-I'm going to die aren't I?"

"You're fine," Aerie said as she put her arms around him. He grabbed hold of her, sobbing into her tunic. He was just a boy after all; hurt and frightened and in need of someone to mother him.

"B-but it got me… I'm going to bleed to death…"

"It's fine, look," Aerie put her hands on where the wolf had bitten him. "No blood."

"B-but," he sniffed, "I-I felt it…"

"The medallion you were… i-it was how we were able to find you. Also, it's enchantment stops you from bleeding," she smiled, "I-I told you… you're father must really care about you."

"I-I…" Simon's lips started to quiver, and then his sobbing became louder as he ducked his head into Aerie's clothes.

"Shhh… i-it's alright," she patted him. "I'll give you something to make sure you don't catch anything, a-and then…"

"Then we're taking you home and you're going straight to bed, young man," Imoen said, stood with her hand on her hip and looking very matronly.

"Y-yes, Miss Imoen," Simon sniffed.

--

When Ewan returned in the morning, he found Imoen asleep on the bench just outside the house. Aerie was asleep next to her, the blonde's head resting on the red head's shoulder, and Simon snoozing on her lap.

To his amazement, the boy was polite and courteous the rest of the day, getting on the carriage and leaving for Athkatla without a fuss while his two minders waved goodbye.

Of course, Ewan knew everything that had gone on the night before. Apparently, it had made Simon change his mind about magic and denied that he'd ever said it was for girls. In fact, all the best heroes used their minds.

Ewan placed a tick on his parchment; another task completed satisfactorily.


	5. Chapter 5: The Black Squirrel

Hmmm... I haven't really much to say here. Enjoy it :)

**The Twelve Labours of Imoen**

**~*~**

**Part Five: The Black Squirrel  
**

"So… what do you want to do now?" Imoen yawned towards the ceiling. Her body lay on the floor, arms and legs spread into a star shape.

"Don't know," Aerie yawned as well. "I'm actually quite relaxed like this."

"Yeah," the red head yawned again. She looked at Aerie and smiled; the elf was upside down. Though of course she wasn't really; for one thing, the elf's long hair lay behind her shoulders. Aerie was just lying on the floor next to her but facing the opposite direction. "Of course… we didn't finish our match did we?"

"We promised we wouldn't fight."

"Yup… didn't take us long to break that though, did it?"

"It doesn't matter," Aerie smiled, "s-so long as we can always be friends again afterwards."

"Sure… so long as you admit that I'll have won. Just like I won at star jumps."

"I-I'll admit," the elf sighed, "so far, I-I've never been able to beat you. But, I'm going to keep training and getting stronger so that some day I will."

"Right… maybe in fifty years when I'm no longer youthful and exuberant and just old and cheeky… and you're still a fit young elf."

"I-I wish you wouldn't say things like that," Aerie frowned, "a-anyway, y-you're a demi-goddess and a mage. You… you might not grow old."

"That's true… we could be stuck with each other for ever."

"Maybe."

"So… what do you want to do?"

"I'm going to the library," the elf declared, sitting up. "If I'm spending eternity with you then I'll want something to read."

"That's no fun… I was hoping for something we could do together."

"Hmm… o-out of curiosity, what do you do when there's no one around?"

"I have hobbies."

"Really… w-what are they?"

"Just stuff."

"W-what kind of stuff?"

"Stuff," Imoen sighed, "I'm not going to tell you. You don't tell me about everything you do. Like those children's stories you've been writing."

"I… I-I don't know what you mean," Aerie's cheeks flushed.

"Those picture books you keep hidden in your pack… all those 'That Witch Which' stories. I think 'That Witch Which Flew to the Moon' was my favourite. Really opened my eyes and made me wonder about what was really possible in the universe. I especially liked the Badger people… genius I thought," Imoen just ducked the pillow flying past her head. "Don't worry, your secrets safe with me, 'Wendy Drawers'. But you must have known you could never have kept it a secret from me."

"I'm going now," Aerie stood all the way up, then, with a determined look in eye declared, "and I will beat you at something one day."

"Yeah," Imoen smiled after she'd left, "good for you Aerrers. I'm sure you will, some day."

--

"The Philosopher's Egg."

"That's it?" Imoen leant forward to examine the glass case on the pedestal. For the next task, they had been transported all the way to Athkatla, made to walk to an expensive where several important seemed to just be arriving in their carriages and then shown into this octagonal room with the famous Philosophers Egg on display at the centre. It did indeed look just like a large egg, but red in colour and, "Shiny…" Imoen's eyes sparkled.

"W-we're here to stop it being stolen, remember?" Aerie nudged her friend.

"Right," Imoen stood back, shaking herself out of her trance. "I… I was just looking."

"Not as if anyone could steal it anyway," the Captain, a large and heavily built man probably from Calimshan judging by the tone of his skin and the big black moustache, snorted. "There's only one door into this room, with two men guarding outside at all times."

"No alarms though," Imoen noticed after a brief examination of the case itself.

"No need for them. Anyone fool enough to break in after hours get's to meet Lucas."

"L-lucas?" Aerie asked, since Imoen was deep in thought. As she did two maids entered the room carrying a bowl filled with raw meat.

"Ah, you're in luck since its feeding time," the Captain chuckled. He stood next to what looked like a large fireplace with a large reinforced door placed across it. Leaning down he, very quickly, slid back a panel just large enough for a man's arm to get through. "Gotta be careful; he does go for your fingers," using a kind of tong he picked up a slab of meat and slowly pushed it through the hole that had everyone's eyes fixed on it; there was flash and a snarl and the meat was gone.

Imoen peered through the hole; the beast looked like a lion, but with spikes around its neck and along its back, and at the end of it's tail were snake like fangs. Fearsome though it was, Imoen couldn't help but notice that the reason she was able to see it so clearly was that there was daylight coming in directly above it.

"A Chimera?" Aerie said. The creature, chomping into it's meat, saw them all looking at it and pulled it's lips back revealing it's huge canines, daring anyone to try and take it's meal.

"After everyone's left and the main door is locked, we open the den door from outside and let him wander around in here all night," the Captain explained. "So you see ladies, it was nice was of you to offer to help and all that, but there's no one getting to this egg."

"We didn't offer," Imoen explained. "We were told we had to come here."

"A famous criminal known only as The Black Squirrel," Ewan expanded on the explanation, "posted a notice outside the Copper Coronet saying they would steal the egg tonight, at William Bendinham's birthday party."

"Wh-what kind of thief announces when they're going to steal something?" Aerie asked.

"And what kind of name is that?" Imoen asked also.

"A very confident or arrogant one I imagine… and I think all the best animals have probably been taken," Ewan answered them both. "In any case, we're here to catch him or her."

"What do you mean, 'we're here to'?" Imoen asked incredulously. "You actually just mean us, me and Aerie… you're just going to disappear again while we have to try and apprehend this maniac, aren't you?"

"I'm only here to watch you perform the tasks," Ewan shrugged, "I'm afraid I'm not allowed to interfere at all."

"Look," the Captain stepped forward, tired of people ignoring him. "You're welcome to hang around the grounds until morning, but I promise you no squirrel is running off with that Egg. Now I've got to lock up," he gestured for everyone to vacate the room. The two maids curtseyed, picked up the bowl and left, Imoen, Aerie and Ewan following soon after them.

"W-why is it called the Philosophers Egg?" Aerie asked. "What's it got to do with philosophy?"

"It was a philosopher who found it a hundred years ago," Ewan filled in the history. "It's said to be made of a substance that can change iron into gold… or transform imperfect, mortal beings like us into perfect immortals. Of course, no one's gotten it to work, yet, but it's still worth a lot of money. Maybe there is no point in us being here though… I don't see how anyone could steal it."

"Beh… I could get at it easy," Imoen's hand flapped down. "Only problem is the Chimera… but I can think of a few solutions."

"Really?"

"I-if Imoen says she can do something, then she can do it," Aerie grinned, "a-and probably will do it regardless of whether anyone thinks she should or not."

"I'm incorrigible," the red head admitted sadly.

"Right… well, I'll just disappear and leave you to it then," Ewan bowed and left.

"Pfff… for a moment I was worried he'd hang around," Imoen assumed her 'let's get down to business' pose. "We need a disguise."

"Why?" Aerie asked.

"Because I've a feeling the thief is already here. We need a disguise so we can move around freely without attracting attention," she looked and, as if Aerie had prayed for it, Imoen spotted the two maids from earlier strolling back down the corridor. "That's perfect," she said, pushing Aerie through the nearest door into some kind of broom cupboard. "Pssst… over here!" She called out to the two women, who conveniently were about the same size as she and Aerie. The maids shrugged at each other, then followed Imoen inside.

One flash of magical power, followed by a few moments of fumbling to undress and then dress, and Aerie and Imoen emerged from the cupboard in their new uniforms.

"What now?" The Avariel asked, adjusting the frilly head band thing. Imoen wasn't at all surprised that this disguise really suited the blonde. Although Aerie had used magic to round off her ears and put her eyes on straight; an elf employed as a servant probably would have attracted some attention.

"We look around, mingle with the guests," Imoen explained whilst tying up her apron. "Dressed like this, all those stuck up lords and ladies won't think of us as much more than furniture. You've got to remember this, since it's the first rule of espionage; you want to know what's really going on around a place you should always enter through the staff entrance. They go in and out of every room, over hear almost every conversation."

"A-and that's what we're going to be doing?"

"Right… keep your eyes and ears open for anything odd or suspicious. The thief could be anywhere. Or anyone."

--

Vanara sat up and was just about able to slip her hands free of her binds… they'd used the clothes they'd taken off to restrain her and her partner. There was also a really annoying ringing in her head.

"Wake up you," she said, kicking the girl with long brown hair just stirring next to her. "I said wake up, you idiot!" Vanara emphasised the urgency with a small kick to the girl's side.

"I…" the girl sat up, shaking the cobwebs out. "Wh-what happened?"

"They cast a spell on us, you idiot," Vanara sneered. The brown haired girl, Elly, looked up at her striking companion with short messy black her and bright green eyes.

"I-I'm sorry," tears spontaneously poured down Elly's face. "Y-you said to be on guard, b-but I let you down… again. P-please forgive me…"

"Oh, shut up you useless dunderhead," Vanara sneered. "I'll punish you for this later… for now, we have to worry about the fact that we're locked in a broom cupboard wearing nothing but our under garments. If anyone were to walk in they'd either be too shocked for words or think they'd died and gone to the heavens. I'd rather we got out before that happened."

"Well… th-they left their own clothes behind. W-we could just put those on and t-then find some other disguises…"

"I told you to shut up, pea brain!" Vanara clipped Elly round the back of the head.

"Owwie! I-I'm sorry, m-ma'am…"

"I've had an idea; we'll just have to put on the clothes they've left and then find some other disguises," The black haired woman was pleased at her quick thinking. "How much longer do we have to wait?"

"Oh… w-we should wait just a few more hours. The… t-the potion will have taken full effect by then."

"Hmph… I often think I should have left you in that brothel, but I guess you do have uses after all."

"Y-yes!" Elly nodded emphatically. "I-I can be very useful to you… p-please don't send me back there!"

"So long as it works like you said, you've nothing to worry about. Now hurry up and get dressed. We'll have to keep an eye out for those other two… I don't think they're on to us yet, but they could be trouble."

--

Downstairs, the party was well under way. Minstrels played a subdued but joyful melody while Amn's rich and famous stood around in the expensive gowns and suits they'd had made just for this occasion. Tomorrow, when those clothes weren't fashionable any more, they'd probably be used to make something new.

Imoen had been right; Aerie weaved around the guests and whilst the occasional hand reached out and took one of the cups from her tray, no one seemed to be paying her any attention at all.

There were a few people here Aerie recognised; over there was the Chief Magistrate herself. An older woman with silver hair, and still quite striking; Aerie imagined she must have been extremely beautiful in her younger days. And over there was the artist and sculptor Sir Sarles and the chubby man he was talking to must have been William Bendinham, the owner of the Egg.

"I say, young Bendinham does throw quite a ball, wouldn't you say old boy?" Aerie came across a group of three men, whose looks and manner reminded her of nagging horses.

"Not bad for new blood, what."

"New blood indeed… but for much longer chaps. I hear the man's stone broke."

Aerie's ears picked up; she had been at this a while now and hadn't seen anything really suspicious, but this sounded like it could be important. After each of the three gentlemen had taken a cup and started sipping from it, she decided she should hang around and listen to more of their conversation.

"Broke you say? Well that's jolly peculiar, what."

"Why's that old boy?"

"Chap bought two hundred pounds of foreign grog from me just a month ago. Rather expensive stuff to import you know. And even earlier this evening he was asking Peg Leg Ted about buying a boat."

"He certainly does seem to be splashing out a bit. Perhaps he's planning to sell the Philosopher's Egg?"

"Perhaps… I must say I wouldn't mind at all getting my hands on it. It would be a marvellous center piece for Uncle Strange's funeral."

"Why is it called the Philosopher's Egg?"

"No idea old boy. But what is philosophy? What does it mean?"

"I-it's 'philos', m-meaning love, and 'sophos' m-meaning wisdom. I-it's the love of wisdom," Aerie heard herself speak.

"I say, did any of you chaps hear anything just now?"

"Not a thing old boy."

"But has anyone noticed that this maid has been hanging around an awfully long time?"

"I rather think she has, yes. If she was one of mine I'd give her a good whipping."

"And you would be quite right to do so old chap. Peasants these days are getting too damn lazy."

"You, girl… my cup is empty. Fetch us more drinks… right away, go on."

"Um," Aerie, although she had been used to being treated this way in the circus all the time, after more than a year of freedom she suddenly found the attitude of these people exasperating. "S-shouldn't you say please?"

"Good Gods! How dare you talk back to your superiors in this way! I see a few dozen cracks with the whip won't be enough!"

"Perhaps she wants a spanking as well?"

"Oh, jolly good suggestion old chap!"

"Eh," Aerie gulped. She realised she suddenly had to get out of here fast. "I-I'm terribly sorry, sirs," she quickly curtseyed and ran away. Although, as she did so, she did mutter a few words in some ancient tongue under her breath. She had a feeling that's what Imoen would have done.

"Peasants… no etiquette at all," the gentlemen scoffed. "What was it we were discussing?"

"The Philosophers Egg."

"Ah, yes…" he sipped the last few drops from his cup. He wasn't paying attention, but all around him the other guests had dropped what they were doing and then their jaws had dropped. "The Egg…"

"I say, I don't meant to be rude by interrupting old chap, but I feel I really must draw your attention to the fact that your pants have fallen down and your old chap is on display for the whole rest of the world to see."

"I'm glad you brought it up old boy," the gentlemen whose drawers had dropped put his cup down. "It is rather an embarrassing predicament to find one self in."

"Well, that's why I thought I should mention it."

"I shall have to have words with my tailor."

"Jolly good show."

--

"Ohhh… so shiny and pretty," Imoen hugged the necklace she'd 'found'. "You're far too pretty for any of them… I'll bury you somewhere safe where they won't find you."

"Imoen? W-what are you doing?" Aerie found her friend just outside the main hall.

"Er… n-nothing," Imoen spun around, her hand flying into her apron as she did so. She had a very suspicious grin on her face. "How's the search going? You seen anyone looking suspicious?"

"Uh-huh," Aerie nodded, folding her arms, "what have you got in your apron?"

"Nothing… my hands are just a bit cold…" The elf though could definitely hear several things jingling in there.

"We… we came here to catch a thief, didn't we?"

"Sure."

"We're not supposed to be the thieves."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Y-you've spent the whole night picking pockets, haven't you? Have you even been looking for The Black Squirrel at all?"

"Of course I have!" Imoen protested, even while her toes furtively drew little circles on the floor. "I… may have got distracted a few times…"

"You have to put all that back."

"Why should I put it back?! Those twits in there only wear this stuff for show… they don't appreciate the shiny things as much as I do!"

"It's wrong to steal. A-and, you did say you'd listen to me more from now on…"

"Stoopidpromises," Imoen muttered sulkily. "Fine… I'll give it all to the door guard and claim it's all lost property, okay?"

"Good."

"What did you want anyway?"

"Oh, y-yes," Aerie had almost forgotten why she'd sought the red head out. "I wanted to ask… w-what will the thieves do with the Egg after they've stolen it?"

"Well, if it was me I'd bury it and dig it out occasionally to hug it and look at its shininess. But most thieves will probably try to sell it for the money. It's stupid, because most coins are old and don't have much shine left…"

"B-but who would buy it? I mean, everyone would know it's been stolen, s-so it's not as if they could even display it in their homes."

"Oh, you get people who have this silly little obsession about collecting stuff like that. They'll just lock it in a safe with a load of other artefacts that were stolen as well."

"But… I-I always thought the point of owning things worth a lot of money was to impress people."

"Usually… some people though just feel good about knowing they've got the only one of something in existence and it's only for them to enjoy. Why are you asking about all this anyway?"

"Hm? Oh… I-I had an idea about the Egg thieves."

"Great. You can tell me about it on the way up to the roof."

"The… the roof?"

"Yup. We've hung around here long enough I think. It's time we went and caught a squirrel. By the nuts if need be."

--

Inside the octagonal room where the Philosopher's Egg still glittered even in the still darkness, everything was very quiet. Until, inside the old fire place where Lucas rested during the day, the end of a rope dropped to the floor. Soon, two female voices could be heard speaking to each other in hushed tones.

"A-aren't you worried about the Chimera?" Aerie asked, her voice straining a bit.

"We can handle it," Imoen said, "You've got your contingencies ready?"

"Yes… i-it's just, it's basically like a big cat isn't it?"

"I've told you, the big ones don't bother me so much."

"Really? W-what… I mean, w-what size does it have to be before it changes from being a big cuddly animal i-into a scary little monster?"

"Don't ask silly questions, bufflehead. Just climb."

"Imoen…"

"Yes?"

"M-my hands are sore… a-and I'm slipping. I-I'm not sure I can hold on much longer…"

"It's just a few more feet…"

"I-I… errk!"

The two women fell the remaining distance, landing head over heels. Imoen landed roughly on her bottom, then found herself staring up Aerie's skirt, the blondes legs resting upon her shoulders. The Avariel was similar position, only upside down.

"I-I didn't know you had a tattoo on your…"

"Never mind about that!" The red head put a finger to her lips. "There are still guards outside, remember?"

"Where's Lucas?"

Indeed, the Chimera should certainly have come to investigate when Imoen and her little helper fell down the chimney. Untangling from each other, they found him just outside the fire place, snoring and snoozing peacefully. Aerie cautiously approached the beast, which didn't react at all to her presence. Gently she pulled open an eye lid.

"H-he's been drugged," the elf explained, "they used to give drugs to the lions in the circus before shows to make them feel drowsy and not so aggressive. He's been given a lot of it."

"How'd they get the lions to take the drugs?"

"I-it was in their meat," Aerie's started grinning facetiously, "You know what this means, don't you?"

"What?"

"The Black Squirrel is e-either the person who prepares the food, or the two maids who we ambushed and whose clothes we're wearing."

"Yeah, yeah… what an amusing twist," Immy yawned. "You couldn't make up a story like that."

"I-I don't think any self respecting story teller would want to."

"Got to agree completely with you there," then, from outside, a key was placed in the lock and started to turn. "Hide!" There were few hiding places in the room; apart from the Egg the only other items on display were a Harp and statue of a Unicorn. There was also a decorative screen however, big enough for the two of them to conceal themselves behind.

Sure enough, it was the same two maids before that entered. Outside, the two guards had obviously been drugged as well, though much faster working than whatever had been given to Lucas. How the maids had gotten it into their systems was obvious; each of them had a tray with cups and a jug filled with wine on it.

"Hmm, looks like I won't be dumping your sorry carcass in the river after all," The black haired girl said as she inspected the sleeping Chimera.

"Oh, t-thank you ma'am!" The one with long brown curls said through her tears of relief and joy.

"Heh… I don't know why I felt like giving you a chance. But I guess it paid off. Now let's get the egg and get out of here…"

"Not so fast!" The maids turned and gasped at… another maid. But this one was actually Imoen blocking the exit. "The Black Squirrel, I presume."

"Who the hell are you?!" Vanara, also known as The Black Squirrel, demanded.

"I-it's them!" Elly bleated. "I-it's the two who ambushed us earlier!"

"Oh, good," The green eyed maid grinned widely. "I was hoping I'd run into you again," she said. The knife she pulled from her apron was a hint as to why she wanted to run into them.

"Oh, no," Imoen shook her head. "I should have thought of hiding a weapon on me somewhere."

Vanara lunged straight at Imoen, but Aerie tackled her from the side, one hand holding on to the Black Squirrels wrist as they spun around the room in a strange kind of dance. Imoen took hold of the nearest object, the harp, and lined herself up to hit the raven haired thief over the head with it as she struggled with the elf.

"N-no!" Elly squeeled and ran at Imoen, swinging the tray she'd been carrying wildly. The red head easily avoided each clumsy swipe. Then she caught tray, and invoking her magic sent an electric shock through the metal, stunning the brown haired accomplice.

But in the meantime, despite her best efforts, Aerie had been completely overpowered by Vanara.

"Hold it right there!" The Black Squirrel demanded. Imoen turned away from Elly, who was sat on the floor with her head spinning, only to find her friend being held up by the neck and Vanara's knife pointed just below her breast. "You'd better do exactly as I say, or I'll stab her!"

Imoen looked into Aerie's blue eyes; the elf was afraid and yet, she nodded. Imoen understood.

"Go on then," she yawned. "Stab her."

"What?! This is your friend isn't it?"

"She's alright, but I've got lots of other friends. I really won't miss her too much."

"Heh… you're trying that reverse psychology stuff. But it won't work dunderhead… I really will stab her!"

"I said go ahead. I want you to!"

"Fine!" And so Vanara plunged the knife into Aerie. The elf's blue eyes went wide with the pain and shock. The Black Squirrel withdrew the knife, now dripping with elven blood… then watched with shock of her own as the wound immediately started to heal itself.

Simultaneously, Aerie's body started to glow. Within a second a burst of magical energy threw Vanara off her into the wall. As she slid down, she grabbed hold of the Unicorns horn, which came straight off. The Black Squirrel then slipped off into a dreamy state.

"Looks like you were right, Aerie," Imoen blinked. The Unicorn horn had apparently being the key to opening a hidden compartment in the wall. Inside it were a half dozen eggs, just like the one in the case.

--

"Well, I guess it weren't so bad you girls being here after all," the Captain begrudgingly admitted. "Well, well… so this is the famous Black Squirrel," he lifted the red face, and strangely subdued, Vanara up to her feet. "But, I never knew there were seven eggs."

"There aren't," Imoen pointed her finger like a school teacher. "Only one of them is real… the rest are just copies made of clay and varnish."

"They are?"

"Yup… we noticed William and Sir Sarles were very friendly with each other at the party. That's because William had commissioned him to make the fakes."

"But why?"

"Good question. You see, we may have caught The Black Squirrel, but the real villain in this piece," Imoen's shot up and spun around the room filled with lords and ladies and all the other important people of Amnish society. "Is none other than… William Bendinham himself!"

"Good Gods!" The room gasped in unison. "Well I never."

"What are you saying?" Bendinham turned red, his forehead already covered in beads of sweat. "I'm the victim here! What right have you to accuse!"

"Save it, tubby. She's already given us a full confession," Imoen whipped out a scroll, bearing the Black Squirrels signature.

"How'd you get her to talk?" The Captain asked.

"I wouldn't like to say… it involved a clothes peg and a large feather. But the fact of the matter is, it was Bendinham who hired her to steal the Philosophers Egg."

"I-it's all true," Vanara whimpered piteously.

"R-ridiculous!" William was gushing sweat now. "Why would I hire someone to steal my own property."

"Good question," Imoen folded her arms and posed for the crowd. "Everyone knows about the financial difficulties you've been having, the fact your business is going under. Yet, at the party you seemed pretty confident you'd have money soon. You were even talking about buying a boat… very strange for someone in such financial dire straights."

"Well… my uncle died and I'll be getting inheritance you see," William fiddled his fingers like a school boy trying to get out of detention.

"I wasn't aware you had an uncle," The Chief Magistrate narrowed her eyes. "And I've looked over your family records several times."

"There's no inheritance," Imoen scoffed, "no… he gathered the richest people in Amn here tonight so you could all hear about the Philosopher's Egg being stolen. As soon as you left, most of you would immediately have started looking to buy it. Well, William, together with the Squirrel, planned to sell fake eggs to each of you. That way they would have made a fortune; and since anyone who bought it would have to keep it a secret it would be ages before you found out that all you had were fakes."

"Guards," the Chief Magistrate raised her arm to point at Bendinham. "I want this man arrested."

"What?!" William was flabbergasted. "What for? Hiring someone to steal my own Egg?"

"Fraud… perverting the course of justice… lying in front of the Chief Magistrate. Take him away!"

"You're a genius, Lady Imoen," The Guard Captain was genuinely impressed. "Of course, I'm out of work now, but how ever did you put it all together?"

"It was all elementary, dear… um, whatever your name is."

Imoen strided from the room to a round of applause. Outside, Aerie had been listening to everything.

"W-well done, Lady Imoen," the elf grinned, "y-you were so clever."

"I asked you if you wanted to be the one to tell everybody," Imoen sighed, "But you said being in front of an audience would make you too nervous."

"I-I know," the elf smiled. "You really were very good… b-better than I could have been in there."

"You think so? I was quite pleased with the bit when I spun around the room pointing at everybody."

"I-it was very effective… so dramatic."

"Yeah… well, Ewan will reappear soon to take us back to our prison. What do you want to do when we get back?"

"Hm… w-we could play that game with the rackets and the net."

"You sure? You know I'll win again."

"Y-you barely beat me last time… a-and I've been practicing."

"All right… I just hope you're prepared to be humiliated."

"Bleh," Aerie said, sticking her tongue out.


	6. Chapter 6: The Stables

I'm sorry this has taken so long. I've been busy with all kinds of stuff lately. But anyway, here it is finally. There is some game dialogue in this chapter, and a special guest character (not another joinable NPC from the game this time, but... well you'll see :))

**The Twelve Labours of Imoen**

**~*~**

**Part Six: The Stables  
**

Despite all her fight talk Aerie did eventually, although not without a valiant effort, lose the game. However, Simon must have had a more profound effect on the elf than Imoen had thought since Aerie seemed more determined than ever to prove that she could beat the red head. And so they spent the entire day pitted against each other in various contests; running, sparring, tennis, tag… but no matter what the game, Aerie was, to her dismay, unable to obtain a single victory despite all the effort she could muster. Although so as not to be misleading it should be pointed out that not a single victory for Imoen was easy.

At one point Imoen looked on astonished as her friend, bent forward with her hands on her knees all red faced and seemingly puffed out, stammered out her conviction that she wasn't yet done. It was a sight that both amused and saddened the red head; Aerie so small and fragile and yet trying so hard.

Anyway, she knew Aerie wouldn't forgive her if she actually just let the elf win. As the day wore on though, the effect of fatigue and an unbearable aching in her muscles started to become too much for Imoen. Even though Aerie must have been feeling it far longer, it was Imoen who threw in the towel. No matter how much she won it just seemed impossible to actually defeat the elf.

So Aerie did achieve a sort of victory; a victory of stubbornness over matter.

When the pair returned to their room, the Avariel fell straight into her bed and went to sleep. The guards of course were relieved that they'd returned; Nalia had ordered them to make sure the pair stayed in their room, but they made no effort to do so. The witches had saved their lives before; they believed strongly that they owed it to go easy on them. More importantly, they believed they owed it to themselves not to risk their lives. Oh, were the Lady Nalia really in danger they would defend her as was their duty, but… this was Imoen and Aerie. They were just like them, really; out there risking their lives for some rich git. Aerie in particular was often in the village using her God given powers to help people who couldn't afford to see the temple priest. She was often invited to come and 'hang out with the lads'; an invitation which she had always humbly declined claiming she had chores to do. Whilst, unbeknownst to Imoen at this time, her humiliation of Lord Windbreaker and his cronies had made her a working class hero in these parts.

Imoen stayed up a while longer than the elf; since she was confident Aerie wouldn't stir for several hours at least so she could devote some time to some of her hobbies without fear of getting caught.

She'd found a wonderful thing left in one of the unoccupied bedrooms when she'd been exploring the castle the other day; she'd hidden it along with the other stuff she needed under the loose floorboard at the end of her bed. It was called 'The Big Pink Almanac for Girls'.

Sitting by her desk, she started gently turning the pages. As well as numerous fascinating articles on sewing and knitting, hair, makeup and how to dress well, the book contained wondrous illustrations of flowers, ponies, unicorns and butterfly winged fairies… they were so pretty she almost wanted to cry. After a while staring, she sighed regretfully and pulled out her knife. She selected a picture of fairies dancing around a toadstool and, after checking there was nothing on the opposing side of the page, she began to carefully cut around the edges. Once complete, she opened her own scrap book and turned through numerous pink and fluffy cut out images, and some pressed flowers, to the first blank page she found and then glued the fairies inside, and then she repeated with another picture, until eventually even someone with the blood of a God had to succumb to sleep…

--

"So, what's the op today then, Boss?" Imoen yawned after another restless night in which she had dreams about blood. Ewan smiled, standing with his hands behind his back. They were in the county again, what looked like a large stable just a short distance behind Ewan. To her side, Imoen noticed that Aerie's nose had started twitching. "Want us to kill an ogre armed only with a spoon?"

"Y-you could flick something in its eye, make it fall," Aerie suggested, making the flicking motion with her fingers. Yet even as she did, her voice and the vacant look in her eyes made her seem unusually distant, even for the elf. Maybe she was just tired.

"That's better than my idea; I was just going to try cracking open it's big bald head."

"There's no ogre," Ewan assured them, "but you will need this," he handed Imoen a broom.

"We flying somewhere?" The red head quipped. Of course, you couldn't really fly on a broom; where would you sit? The whole idea was ridiculous. Now, carpets were an idea worth investigating, although Imoen had always dreamt about flying in her bed…

"Down the road are some stables Lady Nalia recently purchased," Ewan explained, "she wants to start breeding horses, but first she needs it cleaned out."

"That's it?"

"I'm afraid the previous owners didn't look after the place very… well, you'll see when you get there. But it needs to spotless by the time I return after sunset. Good luck."

It was still early morning, so they had the entire day. Imoen used to clean out the stables often when she'd lived with Winthrop, the Innkeeper in Candlekeep… weren't nearly as big as this but the principle was still the same. Aerie too had to clean muck out of animal pens and cages in the circus, so neither girl had any problem with getting down and dirty.

The stench of this place though was unbelievable; when Ewan said the previous owners hadn't looked after it that was something of an understatement. It was clear no one had bothered to sweep around here in years. Rotting animal faeces lay everywhere; not just on the ground, but all over the walls too. The wooden beams stank too as they were soaked through with urine.

"Lovely," Imoen covered her mouth with a handkerchief, "brings me back to those fun times we had slugging through the sewers… you know, I think we're going to need more than a couple of brooms."

"There might be some more tools in that shed," Aerie nodded whilst she had her hands behind her head tying her hair back. There were indeed more tools; shovels and rakes and wheelbarrows. All in good condition since they'd obviously never been used.

The two then set to work, raking the muck into piles and then shovelling it into the wheelbarrows and as they worked Imoen tried to keep some conversation going.

"So Aerie," she tried, "what do you think of flea-furs?"

"Fl-flea furs?" The elf knitted her brows, "D-do fleas have fur?"

"I don't know. I'm talking about a type of clothing."

"I-it wouldn't cover very much…"

"It's not actually made from fleas. It's just an animal pelt with jewels in the eyes. It's becoming popular for Ladies to wear now, or so I've heard. I'm sure I've seen Nalia with one."

"Oh," Aerie stated simply while chucking more muck into the barrow. Talk about fashion clearly didn't spark a lot of interest or passion in her. Imoen wasn't too keen; the type of clothing Ladies wore typically wasn't suited to the day to day activity of their lives. Still, she was desperate for something to chat about and Aerie had been unusually quiet all day. Well, it wasn't unusual for Aerie to be quiet but she was usually okay when talking to Imoen.

In desperation, she even tried her Jaheira impression:

"No slouching child! Keep your back straight. Now listen very carefully; it may take me a long time to say since I do not contract words, ever. By Silvanus, I tell you that contractions are an affront to nature… Put your clothes on Anomen! You're distracting me… oh, now look what you've done! Silvanus will strike us down… _aieeeeee!_"

All said with a slightly exaggerated accent and ending with a very over acted death scene; it usually got a smile out of Aerie at least. But this time the elf just stared right past as the red head twitched her last.

"Sheesh," Imoen's eyes opened as she miraculously returned to life, "Aerie, something seems wrong with you today."

"W-what?" The elf suddenly seemed startled by her, and spent several seconds blinking the cobwebs out of her eyes as if she'd just woken up.

"Something's bothering you," Imoen went right up to Aerie, standing almost nose to nose as she examined her friends face for clues. The elf's cheeks reddened slightly as she was unable to look the human in the eyes. "Is it bullies again? You remember what I told you before; if people start calling you names you just call them names right back…"

"It's not bullies… I-I'm fine, really."

"You're a terrible liar… c'mon, you know you can talk to me about anything, so what's wrong? You're not upset because I beat you yesterday, are you?"

"No… well, m-maybe that does have a little bit to do with it," Aerie admitted with a sigh. "I-it's not fair, you know?" the elf smiled, "I keep practicing and trying my best, but it's you who keeps getting faster and stronger."

"Well… I've been working out," Imoen lied feebly as she sat herself on one of the benches around.

"No you haven't," Aerie saw through it right away, and sat down next to her.

"No… I haven't. I hate getting all hot and sweaty; that's why I packed it in yesterday."

"You haven't been sleeping like you should either. Is… i-s it because of the dreams?"

"Dreams?"

"I-I've heard you sometimes… you've woken me up because of your tossing and turning in you sleep. 'You will learn', it says."

"How do you know that?" Imoen gasped; Aerie was right too. The dreams made her try each night to fight the need for sleep; those little slices of death…

"You talk in your sleep."

"Oh… I never knew that. What else do I say?"

"A-a few nights ago you started complaining that your legs had ran away, but I don't think that's important."

"No… probably not," Imoen couldn't even remember whatever dream that was. But the dreams she had about her father Bhaal, about blood and murder, those always remained vivid.

"I never really thought much about it; w-when your brother let me join him I-I was just so happy to finally get away from the Circus that I didn't care at all about… about what he was. But each day you and he are getting closer to your destinies."

"I know," Imoen sighed, "I've been thinking more and more about it lately, myself."

"It must be an awful feeling. I can't imagine how you'd deal with it."

"It's very hard, sometimes," the red head grimaced as if from some painful memory, "Sometimes, when it's quiet, I hear the taint in my heart whispering to me. It says awful thing and I almost want to scream to shut them out…"

"You… you haven't done anything it's said, have you?" Aerie gasped, overcome with concern.

"Well... other than that time I got up in the middle of the night to snatch a bag full of cinnamon cookies, heck no."

"Oh, goo... what? Cinnamon cookies?"

"Come on, Aerie, lighten up," Imoen giggled facetiously, "Tell ya what... if I have any desires to murder you in the middle of the night, you'll be the first to know, okay?"

"That's not very funny," the elf said, standing up at once and crossing her arms, her face suddenly red all over. "You said I could talk to you about anything… but, e-every time I try to talk to you about a serious subject you just turn it into a joke and use it to make fun of me."

"I'm sorry… but really, Aerie, there's nothing to worry about. It's just a few bad dreams. I'm still me… I'm not going to change into a nasty monster because of a bad dream."

"I-it's not that," Aerie's posture relaxed again, the outrage she'd felt subsiding as quickly as it had come over her. "I know you'd never intentionally hurt anyone… you'd resist it, like your brother does."

"So what's wrong? I promise I won't make fun of you this time… I've gotten it all out of my system."

"S-some people mistake me for a priest," Aerie said, sitting down again, "because I have the power to heal wounds and cure sickness; but I'm not. I-I know I pray to and honour the God's, because that's the way my parents and Quayle taught me, but it takes more than that to become a real priest."

"Uh-uh," Imoen nodded, urging her friend to continue. Of course she was well aware that Aerie wasn't a priest or cleric despite her abilities. It was a shame Edwin didn't; a shame for Aerie anyway. One time, when he'd been convinced he was dying, he'd kept her up all night to hear him confess all nine hundred and eighty of his sins despite Aerie trying to convince him that she hadn't the authority to absolve a single one of them and that all he had was indigestion.

"Some time after I'd convinced Quayle to start teaching me magic, I-I somehow just knew that I had this other power as well. There were no dreams or voices, but I somehow knew this was a gift from the Gods. I didn't understand it; why would they choose to give this power to me? I was just a girl, still weak from my time in captivity… there were surely more worthy people; there are priests who spend their whole lives serving inside temples yet never receive the gifts I have. But I could hardly just return it, so I accepted… i-it still puzzled me for a long time though. Then I met that crazy gnome by the docks…"

"Celvan?" Imoen guessed. She'd seen him once; apparently he spent all his time by the docks spouting prophecies or some such. Everyone just thought he was mad. "What did he say?"

"H-he told me my true destiny lies on the ground; in truth I guess I-I've always accepted that anyway. That I can never just go back home and expect that everything will be like it was, before…"

"I know… I often wish I could just go back to Candlekeep and be a proper child again, instead of a big one. But it's not to be… and anyway, what's your destiny got to do with mine?"

"You _are_ my destiny," Aerie stated with certainty. "That's what I think anyway; I-I think the Gods knew I was going to meet your brother, and they wanted me to help you both somehow… o-or die trying. I'm just worried that I'm not strong enough to do whatever it is they want me to do."

"Maybe it has nothing to do with me… maybe it's all to do with you," Imoen said, impressing her self with how deep she sounded. "Maybe the Gods gave you that gift because you'd earned it with all the suffering you've been through; did you ever think about that? If it were up to me I'd make sure you got something nice after all that."

"Maybe," Aerie smiled, "I-I suppose it doesn't matter, because that's what I want to do anyway; to help you."

"Glad to hear you hang out with me because you want to and it's not just some kind of penance."

"No… a-at least it's not horrible all the time," the elf said with a big grin, "it can be fun and even nice, occasionally…"

"Right… well, I don't know about your destiny, or mine… the Gods don't speak to me either although I think they probably owe me, what, nine favours by now?" She was sure was it was a lot anyway. "But, I know you're strong enough, Aerie. You're smart and wise, in your own special way, although you don't seem to realize that yet… And really, I don't know anyone as brave and determined as you are… you shouldn't feel bad about losing to me. I'm just extraordinarily talented."

"Y-you are extraordinary, anyway."

"And I know you can't die, because to be honest I doubt they'd know what to do with an elf whose best friends are humans and who prays to gnomes. They'd just keep sending you back again."

"Uh-huh."

"So, are we feeling better now?" Imoen ruffled Aerie's hair as the elf smiled and nodded. "Good… back to work then I'm afraid."

It was mid day already, and they'd made very little progress on the stables. No matter how much of the filth they shifted, more seemed to seep in to take it's place. Imoen began to sense that it was futile; at least it was if they stuck to conventional methods…

"Ewan didn't say we couldn't use magic to do this, did he?" The red head tried to recall.

"No," Aerie said, already suspicious. "B-but you know you can't just use magic whenever a chore seems difficult; it just wasn't meant to be used like that… there are about a million things that can go terribly wrong…"

"It's not just difficult, Aerie; it's impossible for the two of us to get this place spotlessly clean in one day. Unless we use our powers."

"I… I suppose so," the elf sighed, clearly unhappy but accepting the situation. "What do you want to do?"

"Follow me," Imoen said, and went on to explain her plan. At the back of the stable, she'd found, ran a calm, narrow river. "We're going to use that to flush the place out."

"This is a really bad idea," the downcast Avariel shook her head.

"I know; it's an awful idea. It's a stupid, desperate plan… but this is a desperate situation, so unless you can think of anything better?"

"All right… let's do it."

It didn't take long to make the necessary preparations; moving the tools and other loose objects away to a safe distance. And then the pair of them stood side by side in the centre of the stables, holding hands; the physical connection allowed Aerie to share her own will power with Imoen as the red head started to chant the spell.

A short distance away, the calm waters of the river were disturbed by a whirl pool sucking in all the water around it until most of the river bed was exposed to the sun; then it erupted. A huge, snake serpent composed entirely of liquid. For a moment it stood with it's head raised high in the air, surveying the trees and bushes as if looking for the one who had summoned it. Then it felt the mages will acting on it. Suddenly it looked down on the stable and dived towards it. Twisting and winding, and smashed through an open door. In out of every building it went, the swirling mass of its body cleansing the walls and picking up every last drop of dropping until finally it had been into every stall and splashed back into a river once more.

Now that they'd rinsed, they just had to dry. And so Aerie started to chant, commanding the air around her to form a whirlwind of which she and Imoen stood in the eye. Warm air blew outwards across evaporating all the fluid that clung to the buildings after the serpents passing.

"I think that's enough," Imoen said at last. Aerie ceased chanting and the air returned to normal. "I don't get why you're so pessimistic about my plans… this one worked like a charm!" The red head applauded her self. The stables were spotlessly clean; they were shining in fact.

"Amazing," Aerie whispered. "Y-you're sure nothing went wrong at all?"

"Accept it; we did it. And with quite a few hours to spare too," Imoen patted her friend on the back. It was clear the elf still had a hard time accepting that things had gone exactly as planned for once. "I bet Nalia didn't think we could; I'm sure she was setting us up to fail. But we've shown her, right? The two of us can do anything when we put our minds to it. In fact, I don't think we should stop there… we can get a bit of paint, summon a few imps…"

"Oh no… l-lets not push our luck, please!" The elf pleaded.

"Oh… all right. We'd probably only be depriving some poor decorator of his job anyway."

"T-thank you," the Avariel sighed with relief.

"Still, I hope you've learnt to trust me a little more in fut… eh?" Imoen felt a wind on face, and heard a twang to her left. Looking round, she saw the shaft of an arrow embedded into one of the doors. In the stunned silence that followed, Aerie was able to hear the bow being strung for another and pulled Imoen to the ground as another arrow, this one on target, whistled over their heads. The two immediately scrambled across the ground into the nearest stall, shutting the lower door behind them.

"Well that's really ruined my day," Imoen huffed as she sat back against the wall, "really Aerie, who would want to start shooting arrows at you?"

"Um… I-I think it was you they were aiming at."

"Well that's even crazier… we're clearly dealing with an unhinged individual."

"I'm sorry about that," a woman's voice entered through the open upper door just above their heads that the horse usually peered out of waiting to be rubbed. "It really was an accident… why don't you show yourselves? It won't happen again." Unfortunately something about the woman's tone failed to reassure Imoen, and she had no intention of being rubbed.

"We're actually quite comfortable in here, thanks," the red head called out, "why don't you just tell us who you are and what you want?"

"Is this the voice of the one called Imoen?"

"Who's asking?"

"It is isn't it? That pitch… you sound like a mere child. I thought I must surely have been speaking to the Avariel… oh, but she doesn't really speak much, does she?"

"There's nothing wrong with my voice… lot's of people say its sweet, in fact, and at least I don't sound like I'm purring all the time. Anyway, who are you?"

"My name is Illasera, The Quick… does it really sound like I'm purring?"

"A little, yeah."

"I'd never noticed… hmm. Anyway, why don't you come out so I can look at you, little sister."

"Sister?" Aerie repeated.

"You're a Bhaalspawn, too?" Imoen sought confirmation.

"Bhaalspawn?" Illasera purred, "why, I like that. But yes, we are sisters, you and I."

"So what do you want?"

"To rip your heart from your chest and crush it under my heel as you watch."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not very nice; besides, only one of us can inherit our fathers throne, and I intend for that one to be me."

"You wouldn't consider some sort of time share? I'll have it on even numbered days and you can have the odd ones?"

"I don't think so."

"Just a thought… I mean, we don't have to resort to killing, do we? I'm sure if we talked about it, woman to woman…"

"I like killing; and I've been looking forward to killing you for a long time. But I'll tell you what; you, come out and fight me, one against one, and I'll let your friend go, unhurt."

"Mind if we talk about it for a minute?"

"Oh, take all the time you need. I can wait a little while longer before slaughtering you like the pig you are."

"Thanks… I'll get back to you soon, I promise," Imoen leant towards Aerie.

"I'm not leaving you," the elf insisted.

"Don't worry Aerie… I've no intention of duelling with Miss Sunshine out there. She knows too much about us, but we don't know a thing about her," they didn't even know what Illasera looked like at this point. "Well, we know she's my sister and that she wants to kill me. I guess it's like that with a lot of siblings, right?"

"I-I was an only child," Aerie shrugged.

"Lucky you. In any case, I don't feel like I want to get close to this sister. Definitely not so close that I might be in range of her sword… if she's carrying a sword; we don't even know that."

"Do you think we're likely to meet lots of people like her? I mean… h-how many Bhaalspawn are there?"

"No way of telling; I mean, they can't be on every street corner or Irenicus wouldn't have gone to so much trouble to capture me. But I think he certainly got around a bit, did my Pa."

"So, what do we do?"

"There's no back door here," Imoen thought for a moment, "so, here's the plan; we're going to stand up, blast her with everything we've got and then we're going to run for it. Got it? We can't take any risks. She's a demi-god too, and we've no way of knowing what the extent of her powers are."

"I understand," Aerie nodded.

"Ready?" The elf nodded again. Imoen opened the door and as one they stepped out. Illasera was leaning against the wall opposite them in a black and green robe; dark hair and eyes with a black tattoo covering the upper half of her face.

Aerie and Imoen launched a volley of missiles, orbs, shards of flame and of ice; a barrage that would have made a sticky puddle of goo out of any living creature. But Illasera just smiled. Each missile thrown only covered about half the distance between them before fizzing out of existence.

"I thought you might try something like this," Illasera stepped away from the wall when they'd finally given up and looked on, bewildered. Imoen's sister lifted a pendant from her chest, set into which was a large black jewel; in fact, it wasn't just black. It actually seemed to be sucking in all the light and colour around it. "A memento from the time our father walked this land as a mortal being," of course, Imoen had heard of artefacts from the time of troubles that had a nulling effect on magic; but they were usually unstable and didn't last very long.

"Avariel," Illasera said, drawing her sword, "I have no interest in you. I'll give you one last chance to leave here."

"I will not abandon my friend," the elf stated, slowly shaking her head.

"Then you will die with her."

"I-f that be the will of the Gods, t-then…" Aerie's whole body tensed as she readied her self to fight. "Oh, just stop talking and start fighting!"

"Wait!" Imoen intervened. "We're unarmed!" She pointed out.

"Indeed you are," Illasera grinned. "Very well," she suddenly threw away her weapon. "I prefer using my hands anyway… so much more intimate, wouldn't you say, sister?"

"I prefer kissing… but I'm afraid I'm just not really into girls that much."

"Well, how about a hug, then?" And then, Illasera the Quick really lived up to her name. Before anyone had a chance to blink, she had covered the remaining distance between them and had her arms coiled tightly around her smaller sibling, simultaneously lifting the red head off the ground. Imoen's struggles only made things worse for her, as between each breath Illasera squeezed tighter and tighter, only letting go when Aerie came charging at her. Imoen dropped into a rather useless heap on the ground.

Illasera easily avoided the elf's initial charge, but Aerie's face was set with determination and anger and she pursued, her fists flailing in all directions; but Illasera was far too quick for her, sidestepping every blow. Suddenly the elf gasped in agony and horror as felt the murderous Bhaalspawn's knee bury it self in her stomach. The elf was doubled over by the blow, and then Illasera grabbed her by the back of the neck and with one hand flung her hard against the nearby wall. Imoen had recovered enough by then to rejoin the fight, but fared no better than her friend. Finally, her wicked sister knocked her back as she removed a small pellet from her belt; this she threw and it exploded into a sticky web that covered Imoen's and held her fast against the wall. She struggled furiously against it, but could do little more than watch as Aerie tried desperately to save her.

They were both clearly outmatched. Illasera could easily have finished them both at any time she wanted, instead she decided to toy with the elf in front of Imoen, repeating throwing Aerie to the ground and allowing her to get up, only to be sent down again. Finally Aerie hadn't the strength to get up any more. She made one last effort to do so, but a sharp kick to the chin put an end to it. The elf lay on the ground with her eyes closed, but thankfully still breathing albeit somewhat heavily.

"I really hoped you would be stronger," Illasera sighed sadly. Imoen had stopped struggling with the web.

It looked very much like this was it; there were so many things Imoen had wanted to do. She'd always wanted to learn to play an instrument… she could have been the next great composer, but now the world would never hear her tunes. At least Aerie was alive; if she didn't regain consciousness and stayed down Illasera might still spare her. But how terrible the elf would feel, after all the assurances, and then living on knowing there hadn't been anything she could do…

"You must have started having the dreams by now," Illasera went on prolonging the torment. "I bet they've been getting worse each night. Do you want to know why that is?"

"Not really… but I guess I can't stop you from telling me," Imoen sneered defiantly.

"A part of you, although obviously a very small part, is a God. Ask yourself, what is the source of a Gods power?"

"A healthy diet? Plenty of exercise?"

"It's belief; and now, think about what you and your brother have been doing since you fled from Candlekeep. You averted a war, became the Heroes of Baldur's Gate. You've devoted yourself to saving lives and helping people, and the tales of your deeds keep spreading. Because of that the divine blood stirs within you in response to all the belief you inspire. It's ironic, really."

"Huh? I don't see what's ironic about it."

"You don't? Think about it; the divine essence in you is corrupted… evil. The more you help people, the closer you bring yourself to becoming the next incarnation of the Lord of Murder."

There was, Imoen had to admit, a certain logic to those words. Maybe it would have been better for her and for everyone if she'd just kept her head low and did nothing. But then…

"What about you?" She asked. "You don't strike me as the kind of person who likes to go around helping people."

"Fear is just as effective at inspiring belief, perhaps more so. I realized a long time ago there was no point in struggling against fate as you have done, rather I embraced it. But," Illasera finally pulled out the knife and pressed it against her sisters cheek, "You won't have to worry about that fate anymore."

Imoen closed her eyes and waited. Blood, murder… that was her fate. But she'd never wanted it. She couldn't live with…

"Maybe its best this way," she whispered.

"No!" Aerie said determinedly. Opening her eyes, Imoen saw her friend standing, using a shovel to support herself and wincing from all the bruises she'd suffered all over her body.

"Foolish elf," Illasera sneered, "you had another chance to save yourself, but you still want to stay here and fight?"

"She never gives up," Imoen sighed knowingly. In fact, what the hell was she thinking just now? Oh yeah… that she didn't want to live if it meant becoming the next God or Murder."

"Imoen," the Avariel said, "y-you have a destiny, not a fate. Do you understand the distinction? It's not your fate to become like her."

"What nonsense is this?" Illasera scoffed, but the elf ignored her.

"You can't avoid fate," Aerie explained, "but, y-you can choose your destiny, just like I've chosen mine to stay here and to help you. And I know when the time comes you'll choose the destiny that's right, because… because I believe in you…"

She was right… Aerie was right. What was Imoen thinking, giving up like that… she couldn't just leave all her friends behind like that. Suddenly overcome with a burning desire to live, she struggled once again to free her arm from the web and… it came free! The momentum it carried caused her hand to continue arching downwards, catching and breaking the chain around Illasera's neck. The black jewel flew away from them both. Startled by this sudden turn of events, the sister made a dash for it… but Aerie had got there first. With a determined grunt, she brought the head of the shovel arching over her own, crashing down on the jewel. It shattered in a blinding flash.

When the mists had cleared from their eyes, Aerie was kneeling where she was, her own eyes closed and her chest heaving up and down.

"This changes nothing!" Illasera spat angrily. "I'm still going to kill you both… only now I'll enjoy so much more," she grabbed Aerie roughly by the collar, lifting the Avariel to her feet whilst pulling her other arm back to strike her; Aerie caught the arm by the wrist before it could touch her.

Illasera's eyes went wide with pain, panic and horror as she felt her bones being crushed, the elf's blue eyes suddenly seeming very cold. She tried desperately to escape but couldn't pull herself free; Aerie, granted strength once again by her Gods, held her in vice like grip. The Bhaalspawn fell to her knees, gasping.

"You know, I-I try not to judge people too harshly, especially when I've only just met them," the Avariel smiled at the sudden and complete reversal, "But, I really don't like you much at all."

Aerie suddenly released her, and Illasera the Quick wasted no time in quickly crawling away on her belly, clutching at her broken wrist. But she felt her head collide with something that blocked her escape; she looked up to a find a pair of black leather boots.

"You're not going already, are you?" Imoen grinned wickedly, "I was so hoping that I'd get to know my sister better. I've even bought a present for you."

"Wh-what is it?" Illasera spat deliriously.

"A stamp," Imoen lifted one of her boots and brought the heel crashing down on her sister's face. Illasera spent the next several hours dreaming about a red haired monster and her deceptively clever side kick.

--

"I'm so sorry," Ewan apologized for about the nineteenth time, "we had no idea this would happen. You weren't badly hurt, were you Miss Aerie?"

"I-I was able to heal as soon as I destroyed the jewel," she smiled reassuringly, "A-anyway, I've had far worse before."

"I'm so glad you're all right."

"Hey! I'm fine too!" Imoen waved her arms frantically trying to get some attention. "You know, it was me she wanted to kill…"

"What?" Ewan just noticed her.

"I'm saying you don't have to worry about me either."

"Fine. Whatever. But what should be done with her?" He nodded to Illasera, still clutching her broken nose with her one good hand and with two of Nalia's guards flanking her.

"Lock her up," Imoen suggested, "maybe she'll get to share a cell with the Black Squirrel and they can talk about how I beat them both."

"Actually, little sister," Illasera said, "I think it was the elf who did most of the work."

"She raises a good point there," Ewan nodded, "Lady Nalia and Lord Windbreaker have started noticing it too."

"What are you talking about?" Imoen raised an eyebrow. "It was a team effort."

"But there's no denying it was Aerie who caught the cat, and who slew the dragon, and who figured out Bendinham's scheme…"

"L-like Imoen said, it was a team effort," Aerie smiled, "It was Imoen who chased the cat a-and I could never have convinced the crowd of Bendinham's scheme on my own. A-and I only killed the dragon on my own because I didn't want my friend to be hurt."

"She knocked me out," Imoen recalled, "so you can hardly blame me for not helping on that one."

"What did you do today?" Illasera asked the elf.

"Well," Aerie began to explain, "I-I heard everything you said, so…"

"No Aerie," Imoen stopped her, "let's let her think about it on her own. She won't have much else to do for a while."

"Others will come for me," Illasera warned, "this is not the last time we'll meet, sister."

"That's good; hold on to that thought. Having something to look forward to might make your time in prison a little easier. Take her away, boys!" They did so, even though technically Imoen wasn't in charge here.

"What do you suppose she meant by 'others'?" Aerie asked.

"Oh, people always say stuff like that. The others will come… I have powerful friends… my brother is going to rescue me. It's all just delusions; I'm sure we've nothing at all to worry about… Hey Aerie…"

"Yes?"

"Thanks."

"W-what for?"

"For believing in me. I think I'd stopped believing in me for a moment there, and I am me…"

"A-and we all love you for it."

"You're so sweet… still a terrible liar though. Hey Aerie…"

"Yes?"

"Do… do you like flowers and unicorns and, y'know, proper girls stuff?"

"Um… i-it's okay I guess. Why?"

"No, nothing… I was just asking is all. Let's go back and get a good nights sleep. I think we've earned it."


	7. Chapter 7: Old Man of the Mountain

We're half way there now. This chapter is rather dialogue intensive, with no violence or death of any kind... but hopefully some people will still enjoy it :)

**The Twelve Labours of Imoen**

**~*~**

**Part Seven: The Old Man of the Mountain  
**

Aerie spent a good long time in the library that evening, just standing in the middle of it reading the spines of the books. She really had no idea what it was she had come in for. She thought she might give the novel she was reading before another go; perhaps if no one had told her there was going to be a twist she wouldn't have been trying to figure it out and could have just enjoyed the story. But the fact was that she did know and she couldn't just make herself forget… besides she had so many other choices here; stories she didn't know the ending to. Although in fact she hadn't even decided whether she was more interested in a fiction or a non-fiction book right now…

_'Maid for Crime – Miss Lamb, a humble house maid, is involved in surreptitiously solving the most heinous crimes; all while being barely appreciated by her fumbling so-called 'betters'. Featuring gypsies.'_

It sounded like the kind of book that was written especially for Aerie. But on the other hand she'd been meaning to read that book on Dwarven rune stones for quite some time… and there were so many other books that seemed interesting as well.

Well, maybe she wouldn't read a book at all tonight. Maybe she'd go and do some writing or sketching of her own. If nothing else jumped out and grabbed her that is…

"_Eek!_" The elf spun around, her heart leaping out of her throat and… Ewan again! The flustered and slightly annoyed Avariel immediately put her wand back and tried to get her heart settled again. "Y-you… you shouldn't sneak up on a witch like that," she tried to say calmly, "I-I'm liable to blast you into the middle of next week. I mean… literally…"

"I do apologise Miss," he bowed more deeply and put his books down on the desk. Aerie, rubbing her shoulder to relieve the tenseness there, noted some of the titles; The Iceman, Insanity Without Craziness… all the books were on the same theme. She'd read some of them herself a while ago. They were very… interesting… "Can I ask you a question?"

"Huh?" Aerie blinked; she'd been getting lost inside her own head again. "Oh… o-of course."

"Do you believe in evil?"

"T-that's… an unusual question…"

"Again, my apologies. I know you must believe in evil… the things you've seen people do… the things people have done to you. What I really mean to ask is, do you think a person can be born bad?"

"But you've seen them… maybe even talked to them. People whose morals are so completely alien to the rest of us, who lack the capacity to feel any pity or remorse for their victims."

"Y-you mean… a psychopath?"

"You've read Doctor Erles' book?"

"I-it's like you said, sir… I've seen people do terrible things and I-I could never understand who or w-why they would."

"We always tell ourselves it's just because of their upbringing. There's a certain comfort in that belief because then we have the power to prevent it… but, if upbringing were the sole factor involved then why doesn't every person abused become one of these psychopaths?"

"I really don't know… I-I mean it could be any number of little things, couldn't it?"

"Well, let's take you… would you say you were a good person?"

"I-I try my best, sir."

"I would say that you were, despite or perhaps even in spite of all those terrible things that were done to you. In fact, I've watched you, Miss Aerie and I've noticed that whenever you see someone who is hurt or in trouble you never even think about helping them. It's just something you do like it's an instinct. I bet you were like that when you were very young too… you saw another child crying you immediately tried to help them. Could you ever murder anyone?"

"I'm sorry i-if this ruins this image you have of me as some all caring earth mother," Aerie laughed, "b-but… I-I have killed people before."

"To defend yourself, or your friends. But what I asked was if you could murder someone in cold blood."

"I… I-I don't think so. But, who knows? I-isn't anyone capable of murder under the right circumstances?"

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"Capable, perhaps… but I think if you did immoral like that, something that went fundamentally against your very nature the guilt you'd experience would be enough to destroy you."

"I don't imagine it would be easy to forgive myself, no," Aerie yawned and sighed at the same time… she yighed. But really, she wondered what was the point of this interrogation? It wasn't just to tell her what a good person she was; things were never really about her, were they? No, all this talk of murder and instinct could only be related to one thing; Imoen. A Child of Bhaal must be born with evil instincts, and had Imoen shown any sign of guilt or remorse over the potentially destructive prank she'd pulled? Those were the things he wanted Aerie to think about, he just wasn't going to come out and say it… he must know she would never believe Imoen was evil. Reckless and foolish sometimes, yes… but Imoen took care of Aerie and tried to protect her from harm, so there must be good in her. Maybe she struggled with her nature a bit sometimes, but Gorion and the others in Candlekeep must have brought her up well.

"I-I don't know whether it's instinct or not," the elf said, continuing to play along anyway, "I was nearing the end of my childhood w-when I was captured… my parents had always taught me values and morals."

"I'm sure they did," Ewan wearily rubbed his eyes, "well, I suppose I've taken up enough of your time Miss. Heh… hearing me go on like that about my fascination with killers… you're probably starting to think I'm some sort of mass murdering psychopath myself."

"Oh… n-no, sir. That thought had never crossed my mind," although Aerie had been feeling a strong desire to be somewhere else for the last several minutes. "A-anyway I've read all those books myself. I-it's normal to want to understand why things happen to us, I think."

"Indeed."

"Do you m-mind if I ask what it was?"

"What what was?"

"The thing that… t-that happened to you to make you so interested in all… a-all this. I'm really sorry if that's an awkward question…"

"But you can ask it."

"But… y-you don't want to tell me? T-that's okay sir… I really do understand. Good night."

--

"Okay, what is it this time?" Imoen rolled her eyes. She really shouldn't have; at this height she was dizzy enough already… she really hated mountains. There was a path which wound its way up, so at least they didn't have to climb. But still, the landscape was barren and it was cold enough for her to see her own breath (which had amused her for about thirty seconds as she imagined her self to be a dragon) and her heavily wrapped feet crunched through snow and it was a very long way down. What if there was ice as well? She'd best not think about it… and then there was the wind howling and whistling between the peaks above. The very voice of loneliness.

Of course, as an Avariel Aerie had grown up in mountains so she was perfectly at home up here. She just walked along the edge completely unconcerned about the thousand foot drop to her right. No, but there was something else bothering her again today as she once again had that absent far away look in her eyes.

"Just thoughts," the blonde said, vaguely gesturing at her temples, "i-in my head."

"Thoughts? In your head?" Imoen gasped in a patronising, sarcastic way. "That's amazing."

"You'd be very surprised," the elf grinned as a snowflake landed and melted on her nose. Her little white face was about all Imoen could see of her friend beneath all the furs. "I-if you could look inside my head that is. Sometimes… s-sometimes it's like the city gate on market day… y-you know, when all those carts and wagons try to come through at the same time and they all just end up to jammed together a-nd going nowhere. I-I'm afraid that's what it gets like up here."

"Why don't you tell me some of them? Maybe I can help ease the congestion. Be like the second gate across the bridge."

"Ah… so, I-I'll divert some of my traffic to you?"

"Exactly. I mean the milk will go off if it doesn't get to market… and, you know all the fruit and vegetables will be rotten or… something…"

"Um… I-I think we've taken the analogy as far as it will go."

"Agreed. So just tell me your thoughts already."

"It's just lots of little things… l-like, how did Illasera know where to find you?"

"That's a good question," Imoen nodded, "you know, I'd meant to ask her, but… well, I just don't think she would break so easily under 'torture' as the Black Squirrel did."

"Well… m-maybe not," the elf involuntarily shuddered as she recalled that night in the display room. The red head could be incredibly nasty when she got mad. Creative too… but very nasty. The things she did with that feather… unspeakable. "There… there aren't many people who could have known, are there? Besides your self, just Lord Windbreaker and the committee, and… and Ewan…"

"And Nalia… don't forget about her."

"Of course… I h-hardly think Nalia would want to kill you…"

"No? What do you think she's been doing for the last tenday?"

"I really don't understand why you two don't get along better," Aerie sighed sadly, "I-I'm sure if you spoke to each other more you'd find you had so much in common…"

"Me and Lady De'Arnise? You're buffleheaded… what do we have in common? She's Nobility, and I'm a commoner. She's rich, I'm poor. She spent her childhood riding ponies and wearing dresses. I spent mine giving names to all the bits of mould in Winthrop's kitchen. What could we possibly have in common?"

"You… y-you both like that cheese with the blue bits in. That's… something."

"It's not enough for me to like her. And she's never wanted me around the castle… the first time she saw me she gave me this look which said 'that's a troublemaker… better keep my eye on her'. It's like what that big tub of lard said when he trod on your foot; it's really not fair how people judge you sometimes because of how you look."

"E-except… in this case, she was right, wasn't she?"

"That's not the point… it's the fact that she assumed I was the type of person who would cause trouble before I had caused any. In fact, it's her fault in a way that I did what I did. I always try to live up to people's expectations."

"O-only you're responsible for your actions, Imoen."

"Yeah… I figured that excuse was kind of weak as soon as I said it," Imoen started to slow and gradually came to a halt; she suddenly felt very light headed. It occurred to her that she needed to sit down before she lost her footing. "Are we nearly there yet?"

"No… w-we're only about half way up I think," Aerie said, remaining standing for a moment.

"Well… I need to rest a moment or two," the red head puffed, "I'm exhausted. Isn't that strange? You usually get tired before I do."

"T-the air gets thinner the higher up we go," the Avariel explained as she sat down against the same rock as Imoen, "I guess your body just isn't adapted to it."

"I guess not," Imoen yawned sleepily. She instinctively leant in closer to her friend to try and share her warmth.

"I-it was the opposite… w-when I was first captured. I think I felt stronger and had more energy than I'd ever had before. I think I probably did anyway."

"Probably?"

"Well I was in chains so it was really hard to tell… a-and confused and angry. And even if I was a little bit stronger back then, one little girl versus dozens of men and women with… s-sticks and whips… it still isn't a fair fight. A-and then that cage… t-that takes its toll… I-I think that's why I had to learn to not get angry, in spite of it all, because it could only have made things worse."

"You're not going to get depressed again are you? I know you can't exactly forget about a huge chunk of your life like… but I really want you all bright eyed and bushy tailed before we meet the old man of the mountain."

That was, incidentally, why they were up here. Their task, on paper at least, was very simple; talk to the old man of the mountain and learn his secret. The fact that he'd been holding on to this secret for fifty years indicated that maybe it was quite as simple as it sounded. Whatever the secret was, Imoen just thought it had better be worth it.

"No… I-I'm not getting depressed. It's just… Ewan asked me if I could murder anyone."

"That's odd…"

"I-I thought so too. A-actually, I think he was trying to convince me, i-in some rather surreptitious way, that you were a bad person."

"I do keep getting the feeling he doesn't like me… don't know what it is. Just the way I look again I guess."

"I-is that all true?"

"People judging you by your appearance? Oh yeah… it could be anything. The colour of your skin or hair, the way you dress, the way you speak, where you were born… any little thing like that. People see those things and they decide they already know everything about you. They might not even know they're doing it… like Nalia. But it's just so ingrained into them that it happens without them thinking. It's all silly though; like red is fiery, so if you have red hair you're supposed to be hot headed. Well I have red hair and I'm not hot headed at all."

"Hm… y-ou know… a-a yellow flame is hotter than a red flame…"

"That's not how it works; don't try to think about these things logically Aerie, because it won't work. No, blondes are fake, or dumb. In fact there's no way someone like you could possibly know which flame is hotter. I'd be surprised if you knew they were hot at all, even after having your hand in them for five minutes."

"I'm not dumb," Aerie smiled.

"No you're not… in fact, if there is someone else trying to kill me then why aren't you a suspect as well?"

"T-that could be a good twist, couldn't it?"

"Nah… it's too obvious, really. The best friend… evil wearing the guise of innocence… all too cliché."

"Besides, I was almost killed as well."

"True… could have been an act though. You know, I die and you make it look like you were heroically trying to save me. She gave you every opportunity to run away, didn't she? It was only me she wanted to be… intimate, with," of course in truth, that was just Illasera's sadistic streak and her vanity; she wanted her victims to feel utterly defeated and hopeless before killing them. If Imoen's best friend had abandoned her because she was so in awe of her power then Imoen would have been left without a hope in the world.

"But I've had lots of opportunities to kill you… i-if I wanted to. I could kill you now and just tell everyone that yeti's did it."

"Well, aside from the fact that you tell even worse lies than that time Jan Jansen started telling people that turnips make you grow six inches overnight, then… yeah, I suppose you could."

"Don't worry… you've nothing to fear from me," Aerie smiled reassuringly. "S-shouldn't we get going now? I-it's not good to rest too long."

"Already?" Imoen allowed Aerie to help her up. Her head still felt light. "Uh… maybe you really are trying to kill me. You know, there's one thing I'm curious about…"

"What's that?"

"Avariel live up here… or places like this, but this isn't what you normally wear is it?" Imoen said, pointing her wrapped palm at the thick furs that engulfed them both. "You told me you wear toga's and things."

"Oh, I-I don't have to wear all this. I just didn't want you to feel overdressed."

"Nice of you."

"I thought so."

--

"This must be the cave," a relieved Imoen said as she stepped through the entrance. Now that they had some kind of shelter the pair took off their gloves and hoods. They had been into two other caves, but this was the first one with signs of habitation and it was surprisingly warm. There was a stone circle and evidence of a fire inside, although it had burnt out long ago. A few pots and pans and blankets, and some white sheets hanging on a line… very white sheets, like they'd never been used… but there was no old man. "So where is he? Wouldn't it be typical if we climbed all the way up here only to find he'd changed address or gone on holiday or something…"

"D-do hermits have holidays?" Aerie asked.

"I don't see why not; it would get boring if you were up here by yourself all the time."

"B-but isn't the whole point to get away from everything, so you can meditate on life, the universe, a-and… everything?"

"Well," Imoen picked at the ashes with her foot, barely able to conceal her frustration, "there's no-one meditating on a thing in here."

"Maybe he's dead," the elf sighed and sat down on a rock, "he… he was an old man afterall."

"Maybe… maybe we scared him off. I doubt he gets many visitors up here."

"Do you want to go back? We… w-we'll just have to tell them the old man of the mountain wasn't up here."

"No way… I'm not going back out there now. We might as well stay here for the night."

"I would like some tea," the elf said as she fumbled through her sack, "w-we did bring it, didn't we? Ah… here it…"

Aerie's jaw fell open, and her hand went to cover her gasp. Imoen turned about to see what had surprised her friend. An old man, stood at the cave entrance just blinking as if he wasn't sure he was awake. He was a classic hermit; bald, but with a long white beard flowing down to his ankles, and leathery strips of skin toughened by a lifetime of exposure to this harsh climate.

"Are you the old man of the mountain?" Imoen asked. Obviously, it was an old man but they had to make sure it was the one; could be any number of hermits in these caves. The old man held his arm, extending a withered figure his grey eyes widening to engulf half his face.

"G-g-gi-girls!" he exclaimed, just as a breeze from behind lifted up his beard.

"Oh… my…" Aerie gasped, as did Imoen.

"It's cold out there, isn't it? Um… could you, er… could you cover that up?" The red head tried to say gently. "Please?"

"Huh?" The old man blinked. "C-cover what?"

"Your, um… thing. I don't mean to be rude, I know it's your home and everything, but… er, Aerie's very pure and…"

"I-I've seen lots of things before," Aerie corrected her friend, "n-never quite looked like that though…"

"Damn right it's my home!" The old man spat out, evidently over the shock of seeing girls for the first time in decades. "What the blazes are you doing in my cave!?"

"You are the old man of the mountain, right?" Imoen pressed, realising she would just have to try not to look at it.

"That's right… this is my mountain! I came up here because I wanted a bit of privacy. So tell me what the hell you want."

"We were told you knew some kind of secret…"

"Yeah… what about it?"

"Um… could you tell us what it is?"

"Well it wouldn't be a secret if I told you, would it? Now go on, shoo!" The old man started jumping around erratically, prodding the girls towards the mouth of the cave with a stick like they were cattle. "You too elfie, shoo!"

"Now… now you look here, old man!" Imoen turned and caught hold of the stick. For all his bluster the old man was quite feeble. "We've come a long way to see you… and I'm tired and my feet are cold and this last tenday we've had to deal with thieves and dead dragons and wolves and a real nasty kitten…"

"A-and we haven't had our tea," Aerie added.

"Right… so we're in no mood for any stupid games, and we are not leaving until you've told us the secret, got it?"

For a very long moment, the old man held the young woman's gaze, his eyes and veins bulging; Imoen was afraid he'd go crazy. Well, obviously someone who wandered around naked on top of a freezing cold mountain probably wasn't completely sane anyway. But she was afraid the old man would start flailing at her; she really didn't know how she would handle that… even if it was in self defence she simply couldn't strike a feeble old man and she doubted Aerie would either.

"Fine," the old man spat on Imoen's feet, "stay and have tea if you want to, but I ain't telling you nothing."

"Will you _please_ put some clothes on!"

"Oh..._oh!_ Does it bother you, does it? My old man's naked body? All that flappy, wobbly flesh… it disturbs you, does it? Makes you uncomfortable?"

"Well… yeah."

"Yes, yes… maybe you have your eye on some young man down there, yes? What is he, some kind of knight? A warrior? Maybe he works in the fields all day, his sweat glistening on his firm, muscular, body. Well take a good look, young lady, because this is what he'll look like one day! _Oh, I'm a little goblin, see and hear me shout,_" The old man started to sing and dance his circles, each 'step' bringing his knee almost up to his neck and his flesh… flapping, "_I'm coming down the mountain, to drive you people out…_"

"You're just a crazy old man," Imoen rolled her eyes back, and kept them there, "I don't think you really know anything at all."

"Oh, no… you're going to have to do a lot better than that, young lady! You want to know my secret, do you?"

"Well we're not here for the company, are we?"

"Then, you have to play the game!"

"What game?"

"Answer me my riddles three… that game."

"I hate that game," Imoen blew a loose strand of hair away from her face, "but I figured there'd be something like that. Hurry up and ask then… I really don't want to stay longer than I have to y'know."

"Ha! The arrogance of youth… there have been others here, you know. No one has ever answered all three riddles."

"Well, that's obvious, isn't it? Because then you'd have had to tell them your secret, and it wouldn't be a secret anymore, would it?"

"Ha! Very well… my first riddle is this; brothers and sisters I have none, but that man's father is my fa... "

"He's your son."

"What?" The old man's wizened finger stopped just in front of his lips. "I didn't even finish asking the riddle!"

"But that's an old one… everyone knows that."

"They do?"

"Yeah… I've had crazy old men and talking stone heads spouting that at me for years."

"Right… well," the old man's resumed wagging his finger furiously, "the next one is a lot harder, so listen well; there are two doors, one leads to paradise and other leads to hell…"

"I-is this the one with the statues?" Aerie asked, "you have to ask one which the other would say i-s the door into paradise, a-and then you open the other door…"

"Shut up!" The old man barked suddenly. The elf immediately backed deeper into the cave.

"I-I'm… I'm very sorry, sir…"

"Well, neither of you brats will know the answer to this; a peacock is a bird which lays no eggs…"

"The hens lay the eggs," Imoen yawned, "and that's three, so will you tell us the secret now?"

"No bloody way!"

"But…"

"No… no, there are two of you, so you have to answer six riddles…"

"Oh, c'mon, that was never in the rules…"

"It's my game and my secret! I can make whatever rules I damn well like!"

"Well, you're obviously just going to keep changing them so no one else can ever win your stupid game!" The red head leant forward, her balled fists planted on her hips.

"Hah! Scared, eh? Realise you're no match for an old man whose mind is feeble, do you?"

"C'mon Aerie," Imoen straightened out, her face tense from all the effort it tool to stop herself exploding. "He doesn't have any great secret. We're leaving."

"That's right! Run away! Like they all do!"

"I-it was very nice to meet you, sir," Aerie quickly curtseyed before scurrying after Imoen.

"Er… sure. Whatever."

The old man of the mountain leant on his stick, triumphantly, as he watched the vanquished girls head out of his cave. But then they stopped, just at the entrance, and started to whisper to each other. He strained his ear to hear…

"C-can't you ask him?" Aerie asked, her feet moving furtively.

"C'mon Aerie," the red head sighed, "you don't need me to ask a simple question for you."

"Right," the elf swallowed hard, and tentatively padded back into the cave. "Um… e-excuse me, sir?"

"Yes? What is it?" The old man groaned.

"I-is it alright if I ask you a question?"

"I will permit it."

"Could you please tell me your secret?"

"Certainly dear… come this way."

"Wait!" Imoen gasped; there was no way it could really be that simple, could it? "Why are you telling her?"

"Because _she_ asked nicely," the old man glared, "you see, that's the trouble with you young people these days. No manners, no respect… not like it was when I was young… you could learn from your friend, you know. Have a little humility."

"Who were you? W-when you were young, sir?"

"Oh, I was an alchemist… and here… here is the secret I've been keeping up here for all these years!" The old man turned over a rock and handed a small bag over to Aerie. The elf carefully examined the contents. "Ah… and I'm an old man whose going to die soon. I figure it's about time I gave it to somebody."

"Er… s-some kind of crystals?" She astutely observed.

"Right… you mix them with soap, some oils and some water and you make a powder that makes all your clothes spotlessly white! The whole recipe is written down inside."

"That's it?!" Imoen was frankly, shocked. "W-we came all this way for… for washing powder?"

"Well, what did you think the secret was, young lady?"

"I thought it would be something to do with life, the universe, and… everything."

"Well, people have got to wash their clothes. That's life, isn't it?"

"But… washing powder?"

"Listen, this isn't just going to make you clean, it's going to make you rich girl! Richer than you've ever dreamt possible!"

"So why didn't you use it to buy a castle or something?"

"Oh, I'm an old man who just wants peace. I never cared about money… so now, shoo, both of you! Out!"

This time the girls offered no resistance as he prodded them out side.

"Poor old man," Aerie commented when they were halfway back down the mountain, "h-he's been up here, c-cut off from the world for twenty years… wasn't that what Ewan said? All that time he's spent guarding his secret."

"Yeah… poor guy," Imoen said, not hiding her dissatisfaction. "It's real tragic all right."

"Y-yes… a-and the really tragic thing is… I-I already know this recipe," the elf grinned facetiously.

"What?"

"A friend of my Uncle's discovered it a-about fifteen years ago, I think."

"Did it make him rich?"

"From what I gather, yes. He's very rich."

"But these crystals are worthless?" Imoen took the bag.

"T-they are a man's life's work… b-but, in monetary terms, I wouldn't think they're worth much."

"Tragic," Imoen turned the bag upside down and the pair watched the crystals falling out, like little grains of sand. "He isolated himself up here, and the world just passed him by… still, at least no one tried to kill me today. Now we can have our tea, I guess."


	8. Chapter 8: No Place Like Home

Here's a lovely chapter with lots of good acting... and it ends with a cliffhanger. I hope you enjoy :)

**The Twelve Labours of Imoen**

**~*~**

**Part Eight: No Place Like Home**

_"Wake up…"_ a girls voice urged. Imoen could barely make it out, lost as she was in the hazy halfway point on the road between sleep and the waking world and not even sure which way she was facing. _"Please… y-you have to wake up…"_ the voice said again, a hint of urgency and a slight spattering of panic in its voice.

"Alright, alright," the red head groaned. She was comfortable and wanted to rest a little longer, but she supposed she couldn't stay in bed all day. She squeezed her eyelids together, counted to three and then just had to go for it and bolted up right. "Sheez, Aerie, why c…?" There was no one there.

Imoen blinked some of the cobwebs out of her eyes. This was her room, wasn't it? Well, calling it a room was perhaps being a bit too generous. It was more like a cupboard, into which barely fitted a crotchety old bed and little else. There was a small shelf on which rested an unlit candle and a shaggy and badly torn teddy bear. It did have a window; well, a hole in the wall.

It may not have been luxurious but it was hers and had been all her life. But who was that she'd been talking to? Air – something… Imoen's head seemed to be emptying like a jug of water. She supposed it didn't really matter; it was just a dream. She also had some sweet taste in her mouth… apples? She couldn't be eating in her sleep could she…

"Ere' now," came a loud hammering on the door, "rise n' shine lass… could sleep through the world ending, ye could…"

"Puffguts!" The young red head's eyes lit up. She bounded to her door and swung it open; sure enough, there was the bald, rotund innkeeper who had been her guardian all her life, little lines on his round, red face from where he laughed too much.

He couldn't come into the room where she slept; that would crush her. Instead, she leapt out, grabbing onto his neck and doing a complete orbit before her feet touched the ground again. Imoen didn't know why she was suddenly so overjoyed to see him; it had almost completely faded from her memory, but maybe she'd been having a nightmare?

"What's all this?" Winthrop said, his red face a little redder, "ye ain't been at me' barrels again, have ye?"

"Oh, another one of your jokes, right?" Imoen giggled, "I'd get more drunk by drinking from the well. Can't I just be pleased to see you?"

"So, ye're finally taking notice of me good looks? But as for me drinks… well, you really think it be a good idea to serve those monks real ale?"

"I would kind of like to see that actually, yeah…"

"Ha! It'll be a sorry sight indeed… they couldn't handle it."

"Right… you water your drinks down because you're worried about your neighbours well being. Such a responsible member of the community…"

"That's right… always thinking of others. A real philanthropist I am! Ha!" Winthrop guffawed and slapped his charge on the back, perhaps a little harder than was necessary. Still, Imoen laughed too.

"If you really don't like the monks, then why don't you leave?" Imoen said… she didn't know why she asked that now. It was like a little voice in her head was saying it would be a really good idea for her and Winthrop to leave Candlekeep together, but it couldn't tell her why. "We could run an Inn together in Baldur's Gate, maybe…"

"Leave Candlekeep?" Winthrop shook his head. "Nay, lass… the monks here may have poles up their nethers, but they're honest folks."

"Hm, and trusting too. Which is good for us, I suppose."

"We may be saving a few coins with our ale, lass, but there's far worse things go on out there. People who will hurt ye in all sorts of ways… but here we got walls to protect us, good food and good people. And we have some good laughs, right? Who'd be fool enough to leave here?"

"Yeah… I guess you're right. It is really good here," Imoen again didn't know why she'd only just realised that. She used to think all the time about what the world outside the Keep's walls was like… but that was silly. She was happy and had everything she needed right here. And it was safe. Nothing bad ever happened here.

"We're agreed then… now ye'd best get to work girl. Gotta get those tables wiped n' the floors all scrubbed. Who knows what important visitors we'll have today? I've a hankering for a little elven arse…"

"Yes sir, you old puffguts, sir!" Imoen stood to attention and saluted, in blatant mockery of the Keep's guards.

"Captain Puffguts to you, girl!" The Innkeep stood straight with his thumbs in his breeches. "Now carry on."

Imoen had to get back into her cupboard to get dressed, pausing before starting her chores to peer out the hole in the wall. The sun was dazzling, in the sky the gulls were flying out to sea. On the ground the monks strolled through the impeccably well maintained gardens in quiet comtemplation, amid bright sweet smelling flowers of every colour and from over the Keep's high wall's came the sound of the sea gently washing against the cliffs. Life was good here; she was home.

--

Whilst Imoen, smiling contentedly, busied herself about her chores, a new visitor unexpectedly popped into Candlekeep. Near a sundial, one of the splendid flowerbeds swayed gently as the honey bee's buzzed through them and then the next second… _pop_. Suddenly a blonde elven girl was trampling on them.

Aerie didn't recognise the place. She'd never seen Candlekeep, although she'd heard about it. Quayle had visited it a few times, as had others who had come to the circus. And of course Imoen spoke of her home often. The walls, the chanting, the monks (none of whom seemed the least bit concerned that an elf maiden had suddenly come into existence in front of them, and in doing so had destroyed their carefully arranged flowers)… it only took a few seconds for it all to fall into place.

It really was a fortress, just like Imoen had described. Grander even than Nalia's home. Aerie had always wanted to come here herself; she'd heard every book that had ever been written was contained within the great library. But… the elf had no time to be awestruck. She had no idea how long she had before this peaceful world came to a sudden and cruel end, so needed to find Imoen fast.

She remembered that her friend had lived at an Inn with a man called Winthrop, so that was the best place to start. The elf took a few steps out of the flowerbed, meaning to ask a monk for directions, when she noticed her reflection in the perfectly clear waters of a fountain; specifically, she noticed the clothes she was wearing. She looked like one of the dancers in the circus; her attire basically consisted of a long loincloth and a top which barely covered her modesty.

Squeaking and flushing with embarrassment, the self-conscious elf ran and hid in the bushes like a frightened fawn. She did enjoy dressing up sometimes, but to wear clothes like that in public…!

_'Get a hold of yourself, you silly girl!'_ The voice in her head demanded. It would probably have slapped her as well, if it had a body. _'You're not out in public, are you? Candlekeep, the monks… none of it's real.'_

_'You... y-you're right. I'm sorry.'_

_'You're always sorry… it's pathetic you know.'_

_'T-there's no need to be mean! I was just surprised is all…'_

_'Wimp.'_

_'I'm not…! I-if you weren't just a voice in my head, I'd…'_

_'You'd what? You'd drown me with your tears, you big cry baby?'_

_'I-if you want a fight then come out! If… if this is a dream then you can, can't you?'_

_'You're not worth the trouble.'_

_'Well… just… just shut up then.'_

Aerie's paranoia decided to remain silent for the time being, which was just as well. She needed to find Imoen and not get into another catfight with herself right now. The elf gently stepped away from the bushes and looked at herself in the fountain again.

It really wasn't that bad, was it? She was… well, she wasn't ugly, was she? She used to be a bit too skinny perhaps, but since leaving the circus she'd been eating better food and grown into a quite pleasing shape and in this dream world the Avariel had no scars on her back. She couldn't be sure, but maybe if any real men could see her like this they'd think her quite attractive… still, she much preferred her adventuring clothes. Even though there wasn't really any substantial difference in the amount of protection her usual tights and tunics offered she somehow felt a lot less vulnerable with a lot less skin on display. She couldn't waste any more time… she had to get back to reality.

--

Nobles… Imoen didn't like them. They only came to Candlekeep so that they could go home to tell their friends they'd been to the great library and therefore seem sophisticated in their eyes. But none of them really cared about knowledge and learning. To them, books were just a status symbol.

The noble couple staying at the Inn right now were prime examples of the kind of stupidity that can only be achieved through at least ten generations of inbreeding. The man was busy complaining to Winthrop that no one had come to dress him that morning and that he'd almost had a fatal accident trying to pull his pants on over his head. To think if there was a war this fellow would likely be directing people in battle…

His wife at least seemed to have had less trouble dressing her self. The lady sat by the fire place sipping her tea wearing a pretty green silk dress. It wasn't quite as extravagant as the dress she'd arrived in yesterday, but still it shone expensively and had lots of pretty ribbons tied around it.

Pretty, yes, but, Imoen wondered, could you do any work in it? Probably not… it just made some horse faced woman marginally better looking and was good for nothing else besides being… pretty.

"Could I fetch you a drink, me'lord?" Winthrop asked now that the nobleman had apparently grown weary of his tirade.

"After sleeping in one of your beds I shudder to think of the state of your wine cellar," the noble turned his rather prominent nose up, "just bring me some water; I don't suppose there's any way you could ruin that."

"I could pee in it," the Inn keep muttered when the noble had turned his back. Imoen, who had being cleaning up a spill beneath a table, jumped up accidently bumping into the nobleman.

"Be more careful girl!" He whined. "These clothes cost more than you would."

"Oh, I'm extremely sorry, me'lord," the red head stepped back and bowed humbly, almost prostrating herself.

"Hmph… just see that it doesn't happen again…"

He pushed by her, clearly having little time to waste on peasants. Imoen cranked herself back up, a wicked grin on her face as she tossed the man's purse between her hands. But then out of nowhere a huge hand engulfed her upperarm and lifted her almost off her feet.

"That any way to treat the customers?" Wintrop tutted.

"Awww… c'mon!" She squealed, "that blunder brain was asking for it…"

"Maybe… but what'll happen if the monks caught wind of ye stealing? I saw what happened when they caught a thief before. They got an axe and cut his hands clean off they did!"

"R-r-really?" Imoen gulped.

"Haha! Nah… course not. I'm teasing ye. Still, you shouldn't be stealing. For now though we'll just put this in the box with the other lost things; Lady Tymora on our side, he'll just think he dropped it."

"Oh, I love your little jokes," the red head sighed.

The front door slowly swung open then, and a blonde elf cautiously peered inside. Winthrop's eyes lit up, as if he'd been waiting for this all his life.

"Well now… elven arse," he said, "sweet little arse as well…"

"Er… I'd appreciate it if you put me down now," Imoen said, still hanging in the air under Winthrop's grip.

"Right," he let her go, not taking his eyes off the newcomer while the red head fell onto her own posterior.

"I don't get your obsession with 'elven arse'," Imoen grumbled as she stood back up rubbing her own sore buttocks, "just skinny and pasty if you ask me…"

"Imoen…" the elf said, eyes widening slightly as she approached, "it… i-it really is you, isn't it? Your hair's longer, a-and your body is a little… rounder, but…"

"Can we help you, little lady?" Winthrop chirruped. "You need armor, weapons, supplies… a place to stay?"

"Er… n-no, thank you," the elf turned and bowed to the Inn keeper, "I-I just need to speak to Imoen…"

"She ain't pilfered anything of yours, has she?" Winthrop balled his fists and put them on his hips. "If'n she has then I swear she'll return it, then I'll have her over my knee I will…"

"I've never seen her before!" Imoen squinted. She was sure she hadn't… yet she did seem somehow familiar, "I don't know you, do I?"

"K-know me?" The elf looked surprised. "But… o-of course you know me. I'm Aerie…"

"Air…?!" Could that have been the person in her dream?

"You… you really don't remember me, do you?" The elf mused to herself, "y-you've reverted to some younger version of yourself, keeping all your later memories suppressed… oh, I told you not to eat those apples…"

"Apples…" that taste in her mouth when she woke up. What was going on? "This… this is another one of your tricks, right?" She turned to Winthrop. That had to be it; bit of an elaborate hoax for old puffguts to pull off but what other explanation was there? "You old kidder…" but the Inn keep merely looked at her, shaking his head.

"You have to wake up," Aerie said, "if you don't, you'll die…"

"But I am awake, bufflehead," the red head insisted, "I've been awake for hours…"

"No, Imoen… t-this is a dream. You have to believe me… _ouch!_" The elf jumped back after Imoen had pinched her, "What… wh-what did you do that for?"

"I was checking if this was a dream of course… you seem pretty real to me."

"Y-you're supposed to pinch yourself! Anyway… that doesn't really work…"

"Whatever… I like a good prank but right now I have chores to get on with…"

"No, you don't… this Inn isn't real. Please listen… w-we were supposed to be checking this old road to find why so many travellers had been disappearing. We came across this old tree with fruit on it, a-and decided to take an apple… I told you i-it was bad idea because none of the other trees were bearing fruit, but as usual you wouldn't listen to anyone else… and then you fell asleep."

"Right… so why are you here, in my dream then?"

"I-I had no choice… I tried everything else I could to wake you. When I opened your eyelids, I-I saw that you were dreaming, so I thought to use my magic to come here after you…"

"Uh-huh… listen, goldilocks, even if everything you say is true then how do you that this isn't real and the world you come from isn't the dream world? Huh? Bet you didn't think about that, did you?" Imoen stood proudly, congratulating herself for her own wisdom.

"H-have you seen the sundials outside? T-they haven't changed position at all since I got here…"

"Well… maybe they're broken."

"B-broken? It's a… nevermind. You have to remember something… Jaheira, Minsc… Boo? Please just try to remember!"

"I…" there was something. Imoen could see the girl, Aerie. Quiet type, good mannered, often looked sad. She was involved in the circus somehow… and Imoen saw the elf fighting against some other woman… fighting to try and protect her… "No… th-this is just crazy!" the red head cried, "Leave me alone, you… you crazy girl!"

"I can't," Aerie sighed, "I told you… y-you'll die if you don't wake up. Don't you see? This must be what happened to all the other travellers… plus, I really want to be back in my own clothes," she muttered.

"Well, if this is a dream then why not just will yourself some new clothes?"

"Hmm… m-maybe, yes," the elf closed her eyes, concentrating really hard. And then, before Imoen's own eyes… _pop_. Gone was Aerie's dancer's costume and she was back in her blue tunic and tights and her big, strong feeling leather boots… she of course was delighted, but Imoen…

"You… you're a witch!" The red head cried. "Did you see what she did?!"

"See what lass?" Winthrop looked around as if nothing had happened.

"But… y-you must have seen it…" The red head insisted, tears welling up in her eyes now.

"He's not real," Aerie sighed sadly, "h-he's just part of the illusion… I'm sorry…"

"No!" Imoen cried once more and fled into the kitchen. After a moment, the elf followed her, finding the human girl sat upon the floor curled up into a little ball, sobbing quietly to her self. "He's… he's gone isn't he? Winthrop and the others… they were replaced by doppelgangers… that's why I wanted us to leave this morning…"

"I'm sorry," the elf said, walking across the room and placing an arm across her friend's shoulders.

"Not your fault, is it? You were in Amn at the time… you were a slave in the circus…"

"Then… you're remembering everything now?"

"Yeah… I remember," Imoen wiped the tears from her cheeks and stood back up, turning to face the blonde. "I remember… there's this silly Avariel girl who keeps driving me insane with all the stupid risks she keeps taking!" She said, striking Aerie on the head with a chop.

"_Oww!_" Aerie stepped back, rubbing her wound. "I'm… I-I'm glad you remember, but… ouch, what was that for?"

"Did you actually have a plan to wake me, or did you just come rushing in again?"

"I… I told you, I'd tried everything I could to wake you. The only thing I can think of i-is that you have to wake yourself."

"And just how do I do that?"

"I… I don't know…"

"Figures…"

"M-maybe there's a key or a door or something," the elf suggested, a finger placed thoughtfully on her lip, "try to think… does anything seem out of place? N-not the way you remember?"

"I don't know… I don't think so," Imoen assumed the same thoughtful posture, "hey… you know how they say that if you die in your dreams you'll die in real life?"

"Well, t-that's not true, is it? I'm fairly sure I've died in my dreams before."

"Right… but maybe if I'm unconscious in the dream world I'll wake up in the real one?"

"Hmm… i-it's worth a try I suppose," Aerie agreed, and immediately started looking for a way to make Imoen unconscious.

"Maybe if we…" _Smash! _Imoen's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a plate breaking over her head. "What the hell, that hurt! Ouch… what did you do that for?!"

"Um… you wanted to be unconscious, right?" Aerie smiled sheepishly.

"Yeah… but, can't you just use magic or something?"

"I have no power here… now, p-please hold still while I bash you with this…"

_Dong! _This time Aerie struck her with a frying pan, but other than the satisfying 'dong' noise, and making Imoen's eyes spin a bit, the red head remained conscious.

"_Owww!_ Cut it out!" Imoen protested angrily.

"I-it's the only way… it's not my fault you're so thick headed. Now stay still!"

_Dong… dong… dong… dong… _The elf kept swinging as hard as she could… by now, Imoen's eyes were watering profusely but still no sign of her going to sleep…

"Hmm," Aerie thought, "m-maybe if take a run up first… and swing upwards so that I hit your jaw…"

"No! Stop it!" Imoen held her arms out. "That's obviously not working."

"I… I guess you're right," the elf sighed.

"Good… now listen…" _dong…_ "Ouch! I thought you were going to stop?!"

"I-I thought if I surprised you again…"

"Give me that!" Imoen snatched the pan from her friend. She was tempted to start hitting her with it as well, but she was aware they needed to figure out a way to wake her self up. "It's no good," she sighed.

"Maybe," Aerie spoke thoughtfully again, "maybe the problem is that… a-a part of you just doesn't want to wake up?"

"What do you mean?" Imoen said, sitting down and leaning on the little kitchen table. She remembered she and Winthrop baking a cake in here once… it was her own birthday cake, and they'd made a complete mess of it and themselves. It was one of the happiest days of her life.

"I miss my home, and my parents," Aerie sighed, gazing out the window into the sky, "maybe it wasn't really exactly the way I remember… b-but, when I look back I remember everything seeming so safe, so tranquil… happy and simple. T-there was no one there who wanted to hurt me. When I dream about being back there again, I-I don't always want to wake up either…"

"It did seem safe here," Imoen nodded, "and happy and simple. I guess I should know better now, but, sometimes I just wish things would go back to how they were."

"We can't go back," the elf sighed, "life is always changing… but, thinkabout the experiences you've had… a-all the places you've seen and been, people you've met, friends you've made… I-I mean… i-it hasn't all been bad, has it?"

"No, Aerie," Imoen smiled, "it hasn't all been bad at all."

"How touching this all is," the friends found themselves interrupted by the noblewoman who had been sat by the fireplace, "truly… real friendship… I'm so moved," she said, wiping away a mock tear. "It's so sweet it makes me want to faint."

"Y-you're the one responsible for all this?" Aerie asked.

"Imoen ate the fruit from my tree," the woman hissed, "like all humans, she thought she could take from nature and give nothing in return. But now that's all changed!"

"You… you're a dryad?"

"Heh… well done. But you are too late, Avariel. Even now, Imoen's body is being absorbed by my tree. She is never going to leave here alive!"

"I thought dryads were good creatures!" Imoen protested.

"N-never mind that," Aerie said urgently, "y-you have to wake up, now!"

"Right!" Slamming her palms on the table, Imoen closed her eyes and concentrated… all she could do was try to will herself awake. Winthrop, Candlekeep… her home. She had to say goodbye to all of it and think of what she had in the present. Aerie relied on her and needed her… and, well, if it wasn't the elf she'd probably be rinsing out the rugs and carpets thinking everything was hunky dory… she really needed Aerie too. She had to wake up…

And so she did…

With a sudden intake of breath, she found herself wide awake. It was night time in the forest, and she found herself lying at the base of the dryad's tree. There was something tugging at arms… and at her legs and her neck. Looking down, she saw the tree's roots had sprung out from the earth and wound about her, trying to pull her under…

"A… A-Aerie…!" The red head croaked.

The Avariel wasn't far away; as soon as she saw what was happening, she ran to her friend and started to tug and pull desperately at the roots. To completely no avail. Quickly realising that was useless, the elf ran back and picked up her staff, pointing it at the base of the trunk. A jet of flame erupted from the magical weapon, striking and scorching the bark. It was a low heat, obviously intended as warning, and it had the desired effect. You could almost hear the huge plant screeching as its roots let go and retreated back into the ground.

"Right," Imoen sat up, rubbing at her sore throat, "now I'm really annoyed." Fuelled by her anger, the red head stood and started to pound on the trunk with her fists. "You get your butt out here, tree spirit!"

"No," a very small voice replied.

"What do you mean no? I'm going to tear you to pieces!"

"Not much in it for me then, is there? I'm staying in here."

"Fine! Then we'll just cut the tree and then burn it!"

"You wouldn't!"

"You've seen inside my mind… what do you think?"

A moments silence followed, during which Imoen was able to calm down, if only a little.

"Oh… all right, fine," the dryad said at last. The friends turned around as the spirit started to materialize behind them. She wasn't horse faced at all, like the woman in the dream. The dryad appeared to them, as tree spirits are want to do, as a beautiful young woman, with brown almond eyes, brown hair down to her hips and a green, somewhat scant dress…

"Now you're in for it!" Imoen said, pounding her fists together… the dryad, suddenly panic stricken, stumbled backwards…

"W-wait," Aerie intervened, "we need to know why she did all this…"

"We do?" Imoen arched an eyebrow, eager to start beating.

"We can do that later… right now, we need her to able to talk."

The dryad managed to pick herself up and compose herself, brushing away the dirt from her skin.

"Why?" She said, standing proudly and defiantly. "It's like I said… humans, all they do is take and give nothing back to nature. When the foresters came… I… I can still hear the cries of my sisters as they were all cut down…" the spirit explained, clenching her fist in an effort subdue her anguish.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Aerie sighed, "But… h-how does doing all this prove that you're any better? Besides, the people you've been killing were innocent travellers… t-they weren't the ones responsible for killing your sisters."

"What difference does it make? They're all the same."

"Listen, if I was a forester here," Imoen said, "and I knew there were dryads in these trees, then I would have left them alone. It's true that unfortunately, there are some, perhaps many humans who wouldn't have cared. But… the one's who came, did you or your sisters even try to let any of them know you were here?"

"We don't reveal ourselves to just anybody…"

"Well, I'm sorry to be blunt, but it was your own fault then, wasn't it?"

"How dare you!" The dryad screeched and lunged at Imoen; the elf caught her and struggled to hold her back.

"Stop it!" Aerie demanded, finally pushing the tree spirit back and slapping her. "W-what good is that going to do? None of this is going to bring your sisters back, is it?"

"I don't care," the dryad said, falling to the ground and sobbing.

"I really am sorry… but, y-you can't be allowed to go on like this. How many humans would you have to kill before your thirst for vengeance is quenched? A hundred? A thousand? A-a million? Would it ever be?"

"So… what are you going to do with me?"

"You can't stay here," Imoen said, folding her arms.

"Y-you really should be punished as well," said Aerie.

"I think the only person qualified enough to do so is Queen Vaelasa," Imoen suggested, and Aerie nodded. They had met Vaelasa, the dryad Queen, when they'd returned to her the acorns of other dryads who had been held captive by the sorcerer, Irenicus.

"You… you would return me to my sisters?" The dryad in front them blinked.

"I-if you return to your acorn and wait until we can bring you to her," Aerie said.

"All things considered, I think I'm letting you off pretty lightly," Imoen huffed, "but, I guess it may be the best way."

"You give your word?" The dryad said, turning and kneeling in front of them.

"I promise, I'll take you to the queen," Imoen sighed. Aerie nodded her assent as well.

"Thank you… I thank both of you. Just one moment," and just like that, the dryad and the tree dematerialised, a small acorn falling and rolling a little where the spirit had been. Aerie picked it up and placed it, carefully, in one of her pouches.

Later on, when they'd returned, Nalia agreed to let them return the acorn to Vaelasa. But not right away; there were still five more tasks and the pair had almost no time to rest before they were sent on the next one.

The need for urgency was due to the fact that word had reached the De'Arnise lands that a small village far to the east and a little north had received a visitor from the heavens. The time for this visitors return was close, and naturally someone had to be sent to investigate the claim.

"So, you've come to see the Deva, have you?" An old hobbled alongside Aerie and Imoen as they entered the village which was close to the mountains.

"Deva?" Imoen said quizzically.

"We have been truly blessed… although I don't know why the Gods have chosen the inhabitants of this village, far from any place important, to hear his words. They work in mysterious ways, I suppose."

"So how many people have seen this Deva?"

"Everyone has! At first, he just appeared to a young girl working on her own in the fields. Of course, no one believed her… but then he appeared to everyone in the village! Once a month he comes now, to give his blessings and take our offerings. Of course, we have very little to give but what does matter if it pleases the Gods, right?"

"Hmm," Aerie started looking suspicious, "tell us… w-what does this Deva look like?"

"Well… he's a Deva, of course! An Angel… blonde hair, blue eyes, big white feathery wings… What do you think a Deva looks like? Silly girl, aren't you?"

"Is something wrong, Aerie?" Imoen asked.

"I guess it's… i-its probably nothing …"

"Look!" The old man pointed his stick and leapt excitedly, "see for yourself, he's here!"

Ahead of them it seemed everyone in the village had gathered in a square. At the centre of it was a wooden stage, which seemed to have been built recently. And upon that stood… a Deva! Sun beaming down on his face, great white wings stretching out gently. Imoen gasped… could it really be an Angel?

"That's… t-that's no Deva," Aerie said, crossing her arms and looking cross.

"Tell me," the winged figure spoke out to the villagers, "why is it that you always want for so much when you need so little? The truly spiritual man has no desires, no need for possessions. My dear friends, I urge you… free your selves of all material things that do naught but weigh you down… offer it up as a gift to the Gods. Only when you have done that will you discover what it is to be truly happy… only then will your hearts soar freely."

"He's… he's Avariel…"


	9. Chapter 9: Deva

If you're wondering why the delay again, I'm afraid been getting wrapped in playing Fallout 3 and the expansion packs... which has has also prompted me to want to go back to play Fallout 1 & 2 again. I can't even remember if I'd already replied to the reviews or not, so if if I forgot about you then I'm very sorry :(

Be warned also that at seventeen pages I believe this is the longest chapter yet. I was tempted to split it in two, but couldn't find a convenient place to do so. Anyway, hope you enjoy :)

Patch (Edit) notes:

The villagers no longer just instantly accept what Imoen and Aerie tell them at the end, and demand a proper explanation. It was already a long episode, and now its slightly longer, but I felt this change at least was justified and completely necessary.

**The Twelve Labours of Imoen**

**~*~**

**Part Nine: Deva**

It was a really easy mistake to make of course; most commoners had never heard of the Avariel, a rare and isolationist people who made their homes in places they knew would not be accessible to anyone who can only travel by land or water. So when one showed up in their village, swooping down on them like a huge bird of prey and wearing rather splendid sandals and toga, what were these villagers who had never read a book in their lives to think?

Even Aerie had scarcely dreamed that she'd ever encounter another one of her people again, and if she did she was likely hoping it would be a better sort. She explained that she had heard a tale when she was young about an Avariel who exploited the ignorance of humans in far out isolated communities for his own gain; of course such behaviour was frowned upon by other Avariel since it was so very childish, really… besides, it really didn't end well for that one…

"We should tell these people the truth," Aerie said, staring out the window at the scene in the square. They had decided not to confront the 'deva' out in the open; if they did he'd likely just take off and they'd never see him again. So instead they'd found a table at the Inn from where they could keep an eye on him and wait.

"Not yet," Imoen said, sitting down and pushing a cup filled only with some local tea recipe across the table to her friend. "People can get very angry when their beliefs are challenged; they'd probably burn us at the stake for blasphemy. Or, they get angry about being lied to and burn him, and probably us as well for being the ones who ruined the cheery little fantasy they were having."

"Just like in the story…"

"Exactly… we've got to be very careful about how we handle this. The bartender said that at some point in the day the angel always goes into the church to pray… alone. That's when we'll be able to talk to him."

Aerie nodded and remained staring out the window, head resting on one arm and completely ignoring her drink. Imoen concernedly examined her friend, noting the pensive expression and the fact she was tapping the table with her other free hand. Impatience had never been one of Aerie's shortcomings; one thing she knew how to do very well after being locked in a cage for many years was wait. But obviously even Aerie had limits to how much of anything she could endure, and the fact was she had waited many years for a chance like this; a chance perhaps, to get word to or from her family in Faenya Dail. To let them know she was okay and hear that they were still happy and that they missed her… that was what Aerie wanted, anyway.

It had always been very hard for the Avariel to come to terms with losing her wings; Imoen doubted it would ever be possible for her friend to ever fully do so. Of course, the red head had experienced loss too; she'd lost Winthrop and several other friends. Nalia had lost her father too… lots of people Imoen knew had lost parents and others close to them. That kind of loss was never easy, but although it may not seem possible at the time, ultimately after burying them and grieving eventually you were able to get on with your own life. But, Aerie had never buried her parents. They could still be alive, somewhere… or they could well be dead. Maybe the worst possible scenario in Aerie's head was that they'd just completely forgotten about her and moved on... but any number of things could have happened, really. Whatever the case it was clear that Aerie really needed to find out so that she could finally say goodbye to them and move on as well. But now suddenly, for the first time since her capture by slavers, the elf's home and family seemed like they might not be completely out of her reach.

"Aerie... y'know," Imoen began having no idea how she would finish, "We're a long way from Faenya Dail..."

"I know," the elf sat back, taking a deep breath, "h-he's probably never heard of it... b-but maybe he comes from another city nearby, and m-maybe someone there who... who can take a message home. L-let them know I'm still alive..."

"I'm not sure it's going to go down too well," Imoen said while outside the last of the villagers were going up to receive their 'blessing', giving away money and other valuables in exchange. The Avariel male seemed to have employed two helpers, one of whom appeared to be a priest of some sort, to ferry the goods into the church. "We're going up to him and say 'stop deceiving these poor people, you spineless bottom feeding parasite, or else... oh, and if you have time, could you maybe do a favour for my friend here?'"

Of course, you could make any idea sound ridiculous if you said it in a highly sarcastic way... _'A steam powered cart? Suurrre... At least when it breaks down you can have a nice cup of tea I suppose'. _But really, she just didn't want her friend getting her hopes up only to have them dashed like... like a thing getting dashed horribly. Imoen was prepared for her friend to get upset and emotional about her seeming dismissal. The elf rarely completely lost her temper, but the red head was expecting some sort of outburst which ultimately never materialised. The blonde just sagged a little, frowning, wincing slightly and obviously wrestling with something.

Aerie had confided in Imoen once that whenever she looked back and reflected on all the time in captivity and the cruelties done to her... it just didn't seem real; like even though she'd experienced all that a part of her still refused to accept that it could happen. Aerie wondered if that seemed strange or silly, but it was something Imoen understood too well. She supposed Aerie's lack of emotion now was because this situation still seemed unreal. It did to Imoen too; outside there was a man claiming to be an angel sent by the Gods, but in fact he was just a perfectly ordinary magical winged elf from the mountains. It... it wasn't something you dealt with every day.

"There's a chance... r-right?" The elf said after a while.

"There's a chance," Imoen sighed. Outside it seemed like things were wrapping up; the avariel spread out his arms and his wings to give one final blessing to the crowd before he was ushered into the church by his assistants. "We'll see what happens..."

--

Getting into the church wasn't as easy as walking up to the front door. The building was off limits while the Deva was inside 'praying', with some of beefiest locals barring the entrance. The young women hardly wanted a fight with the entire village so were forced to seek a back door and try to enter without being seen. The later part at least was of no difficulty to two highly competent magic users.

"Alright, looks like there's a cellar," Imoen whispered when she returned to the stable. She heard no reply from Aerie though. "Aerie? Where are you? You'd better not have wandered off..."

"I'm over here," the elf whispered.

"What? Where?"

"Here... b-by the trough..."

"Well you need to speak up a bit more; I can't see you," Imoen stumbled somewhat blindly in the direction of the horse trough.

"Oww!" Aerie yelped suddenly.

"What?"

"You... y-you just trod on my foot."

"Sorry."

"I-it's alright... a-at least it didn't hurt as much as last time. You said there was a cellar?"

"Right... follow me."

"H-how can I follow you if I can't see you?"

"I thought elves had great senses... can't you use smell or hearing or something?"

"I'm n-not a basset hound..." the elf huffed indignantly.

"I didn't say that you were."

"I d-do feel you treat me sometimes like... l-like some sort of pet."

"Oh, I do not!"

"S-sometimes I feel like you do."

"Well I'm sorry about that, but we can talk about it later. Just be good and nice and maybe I'll have a treat for you as well."

"Hmm... w-what kind of treat?"

"Chocolate biscuit?"

"Well... okay then."

"So just take my hand."

"Where's your hand? I... I-I can feel something round and soft... I don't suppose it's your head, is it?"

"Pretty forward Aerie... I didn't realise we had that kind of relationship..."

"Heh, s-sorry," the elf giggled, "Just think... w-we could kiss and take our clothes off in the middle of the village and no one would even notice..."

"Oh, sheez... always the quiet ones, isn't it?" Imoen rolled her eyes, or at least assumed she did; the inside of her head was completely transparent. She managed to feel along her friends arm and take hold of her hand. "Come on..."

Being invisible too long tended to make people light headed and giddy, in addition to it being disorientating in other ways. There were many things you took for granted when you were used to being visible, like the way when you were walking down the street with lots of other people they would all slightly and subtly alter their course to avoid colliding with you. It happened pretty much unconsciously so naturally you never gave it any thought whatsoever until you were invisible and you had to do all the avoiding by yourself, or else get run over by some huge half-orc builder. Even crossing the short distance of the village square, Imoen had a couple of close shaves with a woman leading her donkey and a man shaped like a brick shed walking purposefully towards the Inn. But she managed to get herself and Aerie across in one piece, whereupon they scurried around to the back of the church where the cellar door had been left unguarded. Only a simple padlock and chain barred entry for most people, but to Imoen that was more or less the same as an invitation to come in.

Once inside and out of sight anyway, Aerie dispelled the invisibility and thankfully stopped suggesting running all across Amn naked. There seemed to be no one inside the building, apart from one pale skinned silver haired lady:

"Chauntea," Aerie bowed her head reverently at the statue surrounded by roses in some small side chapel.

"Wonder why she hasn't done anything to stop this yet?" Imoen wondered out loud.

"Well... m-maybe she has. Maybe that's how we've ended up here... I-I mean if all the Gods just went around striking down every person who caused offence, t-then there'd be no one left to worship any of them."

"You'd think she'd throw them out of her own house though. I mean, _if_," the daughter of Bhaal stated hypothetically; it was already known to Aerie that she had no desire to claim her father's Throne should the opportunity. Although of course neither of them knew exactly what would happen in the battles certain to come; regardless of what her intentions were, Imoen's own siblings saw her as a rival. "If I was a God, then I sure wouldn't stand for it."

"Oh, but... y-you really wouldn't want to encourage people to run to you for help all the time. You'd rather have followers who could think and work things out on their own."

"Yeah, but then, what do I do all day? Anyway, always seemed to me that smiting people you don't like was the only fun part of being a God."

"You wouldn't really smite anyone... m-maybe you could be a God who just goes around hugging people."

"It's a good thought... I might be more into religion if some of the Gods were a bit more cuddly."

"Y-you don't think Silverbeard is cuddly?" Aerie asked innocently, referring to the Dwarven God of Battle.

"Er, no... do you?"

"A-a little bit..."

"You're weird."

"That's my... I-I mean, I am a witch you know..."

Regardless, there were no Dwarf deities around to hug so the pair concentrated on finding the Deva. It wasn't hard; after all it was a small country church not a sprawling temple. He was just next door, in the main hall. It was to say what the of them had been expecting to find; perhaps the 'Deva' and his conspirators sat around laughing and toasting and counting all their money. But, the scene was as the villagers had probably imagined. He was knelt at the back of the church facing a much larger statue of Chauntea, just praying.

Creeping up quietly behind, Imoen exchanged a 'what in the hells' type of glance with Aerie, who shrugged and shook her head. Inching forward some more, the elf's leg brushed against a basket that had been resting at the very end of one of the pews, pushing it over.

"Who...?" The startled 'Deva' immediately swung his head around, wide eyed and panic stricken. His eyes quickly became fixed on Aerie, who held her breath for a long moment as he and she peered into each other's souls. The male Avariel slowly relaxed, settling into a no doubt practiced placidly calm demeanour. "You're..."

"Aerie," the young blonde took a tiny step forward, "f-from Faenya Dail..."

"I do not know it," that revelation caused Aerie to deflate slightly, whilst the male Avariel turned away and genuflected to the statue before rising to his feet. "I am Raptir. Tell me, Aerie from Faenya Dail, what is it you wish with me?"

"W-where did you come from? Is there a city? I-is it far? H-how did you get here...?"

For once, Imoen had decided to sit back and let her friend do most of the talking. It seemed appropriate in the circumstances. She was a little afraid that, in the circumstances, Aerie might forget why they were here in the first place, but the red head was there to insure that didn't happen. There was good chance that Aerie was being so unusually forward just because Imoen had told her not to expect much; besides, Imoen was beginning to doubt her own motives for saying that to her friend.

She'd gotten so used to Aerie's company and their almost sisterly friendship that maybe, deep down inside, Imoen didn't really want Aerie to get in touch with her real family again... because if she did then maybe she would want to go back to them. Upon reflection it was a silly thing to think; Aerie had already said she felt it was her destiny to help Imoen. Besides, Imoen felt that that her friend did genuinely have a passion for magic and travel and adventure and even enjoyed a good fight every now and again, if not the killing and death that often followed. Despite that, it was doubtful Aerie would ever really want to give up that life. She just needed closure for her old life so she could focus more fully on the present.

"He can only answer one thing at a time," the red head smiled, placing a hand supportively on her friends shoulder.

"Oh... of course," Aerie nodded in gratitude, "I'm sorry."

"It's not far," Raptir said, his voice like the rest of him so very smooth and calm. "About three days flight, I suppose," of course a winged creature could cover far greater distances in a day than any creature on foot could. 'Three days flight' could mean hundreds of miles... "But, why do you ask?"

"I have family there," Aerie explained, "I mean, i-in Faenya Dail. They don't know that I'm alive. To... to be honest, I don't know that they're still alive..."

"And so you need me to find out for you?" He surmised, and she nodded. For another long moment he seemed to stare through and around Aerie, presumably looking at where her wings had once been. She could only hope that he was seriously giving thought to helping her. "You will never again know the freedom The Winged Mother bequeathed us," he said at last, "for that, I am truly sorry."

"Will you help me?" Aerie demanded, not really appreciating his pity right now.

"I am told that here, on the ground, nothing is ever given away for free; at least not entirely. So, if I were to help you, what would you do for me?"

"I-I," Aerie looked to Imoen, perhaps for some suggestions. The only one she got was to remember herself. And so, swallowing back her desires, she returned to Raptir. "I can't let you continue exploiting these people, if that's what you're getting. I-if you want gold a-and objects then, I can get them for you... without having to lie to anyone."

"You don't understand at all," Raptir shook his head sadly, "I don't want wealth or trinkets... but I am curious; why is it that you want protect these people? Considering, I'm assuming, that it was they who were responsible for taking away your greatest gift?"

"Y-you mean humans? They're not all alike you know... T-the world's a really big place... perhaps bigger than you know right now. Some people in it are cruel; perhaps because I've felt that cruelty I can't stand to see anyone else suffer. Besides, the people in this village have never taken anything from me."

"You're so," Raptir tilted his head, as if trying to work loose the exact he wanted and then settled on, "humane."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing. I didn't mean to insult you. I don't suppose you've considered that even if you could back, to your Faenya Dail, that they'd never accept you back there. Oh, they would never force you to leave of course; that's not the elven way of doing things. They're rarely that honest; they just wouldn't try to make you feel welcome. In fact I think they'd probably fear you, having been so tainted by the world below."

"I don't think I really want to go back," Aerie admitted, "n-not interminably anyway... I just want to know my parents are okay..."

"It's how they treated me," he said, ignoring her, "when they started fearing me and my gifts... in any case, I cannot help you. I am not ever going back; I will have nothing more to do with them."

"But... y-you can't stay here," Aerie said, her heart visibly sinking as the hopes keeping it buoyant faded away.

"It's far too soon for me to leave," Raptir stated, pointedly turning his back on her and again kneeling. Imoen remained supportively by her friends side.

"Are you okay?" The red head asked. Aerie looked up at her and nodded, no tears in her eyes; maybe she had taken Imoen's words to heart and hadn't expected much from this meeting. Maybe she was trying exceptionally hard to hide her hurt... but whatever the case, there was still business to do. "You really can't stay here you know," she told Raptir, "these people are going to find out what you really are."

"You just don't understand what I'm doing..."

"What you are doing is lying to these people," Aerie spat out, her face hardening, "t-telling them you're some kind of messenger... a Deva..."

"I never told them that," Raptir said, maintaining his cool composure, "some of them assumed that, but I never told them it."

"Lying by omission is still lying, Raptir. A-and you've exploited these people long enough, I think."

"I have never lied to anyone. True, I may not be a divine being myself... but I am a messenger. I was told to come here... to help free these people."

"What a load of beeswax," Imoen said scornfully, "you really expect us to believe that? You're a proven liar, for all the God's sake."

"Why don't you ask the villagers yourself? Before I came, they were much like you are I suspect... wasting their lives in pursuit of wealth, or failing to obtain it spend their time in envy. I taught them that they only need that which is in themselves. Was that a lie? Ask them... ask them if they're happier than they were before. Rather than only thinking of themselves I've taught them to look after each other."

"Uh-huh... so why do you need to take all their gold from them?"

"I haven't taken anything; it was offered to Chauntea. It's all here, in this church."

"Ahh, so the priest was in the scam too?"

"He uses it to purchase books and medicines that these people need, and to share them amongst everyone. There was an old man in this village who broke a leg and could not work, but neither could he afford to have it mended. Now, thanks to the sharing, he is healed. There was no scam involved."

"Well, I... see..." Imoen floundered. Actually, it did all sound pretty good so far, not withstanding that he was still lying about who and what he was. She did still feel that something about all this was 'wrong', but she couldn't explain why... maybe that meant that she was wrong.

"Raptir," Aerie said, her voice softening again as she knelt beside him, "w-who told you to come here?"

"The Winged Mother herself," he told her, "she explained to me that the people on the ground had far greater need of me than our people."

"A-Aerdrie spoke to you?"

"She has done all my life... I don't know why, but I was chosen. And now I speak with Chauntea as well."

"Really?" Imoen scoffed, "don't suppose you can do an impression of either of them? I'd love to know what they sound like..."

"You scoff because it goes beyond your experience of what is possible, but you assure it is the truth."

"Heh... it really doesn't. I just have a bit of trouble believing a word you say..."

"I-is that you meant when you said the others started fearing you?" Aerie interrupted. An unusually bold move, but Imoen let it pass.

"They didn't understand my gift, why I had been chosen above all of them. The priests were the worst; Aerdrie saw through their facades of piousness and devotion. They only truly serve themselves... and I was threat to them you see, because I knew the truth."

"Did... d-did the priests give you anything, Raptir? Any... any medicine?"

"Antidotes... potions. They said it was to help, but really they were trying to take away my gifts. I saw through their lies... you're not here to try and take away my gifts, are you Aerie?"

"N-no," the blonde shook her head and slid her self away, regarding Raptir with some sort of pity or so it looked to Imoen. It was obvious Aerie thought she was on to something; Imoen was on to something too. She still felt she needed to vindicate herself a little for not having said what was wrong before.

"Listen," the red head began, "maybe you really think that you are helping these people... but you have to know we're not going to be the last to come here, right? There's already loads of villages and towns that have heard about a 'Deva', and eventually there's going to be others who will figure out what you really are."

"And so?"

"And so, they're not all as nice as us. You could be putting this village in danger by staying here."

"The Gods will protect us."

"Okay... but on the off chance that the heavenly host doesn't show up in time, what are you going to do?"

"_Raptir!_" As if on cue, a middle aged Chauntean priest bounded into the church, bolting the doors behind. There was some commotion outside; Imoen thought she heard screams. Mopping his sweaty brow, the priest turned hurriedly to the 'Deva'. "Raptir... w-who?" He froze in fear as he suddenly noticed the two women.

"They are guests of mine, Patrick," Raptir assured him, "What is wrong?"

"Bandits!" The priest cried, "Bandits have come into the village... they started setting fire to the fields... its utter chaos out there!"

For the first time since Aerie had startled him, Raptir seemed shaken, his eyes widening ever so slightly. Aerie was already by one of the very small, narrow windows, joined quickly by Imoen. It was hard to see how many, but they estimated maybe a dozen men and women had entered the village. Their leader was on horseback, a human man in his fifties, his face bearing scars from many battles, grunting orders while the villagers fled into their homes. An elf trotted alongside the horse, his nose and mouth covered by a mask. Ahead of them was a mage, cackling delightedly at himself as he used his power to stun some of the fleeing people. The rest of the attackers were all dressed in dark leather, carrying clubs and shields on their backs, driving all before them with cracks of their long whips.

"Slavers," Aerie corrected the Chauntean priest. Imoen was stood a few centimetres away from her, but she could still feel the tenseness coming over every muscle in Aerie's body.

"What do we do?" Patrick asked of the Deva.

"What do we do?" Raptir repeated, tilting his slightly as if listening for an answer. "We... we pray," he said after a moment, then returned to the kneeling position he'd been found in, "the Gods will protect us... you will protect us, yes? We must have faith... why now? We must trust... we must," Raptir's speech became a low murmuring as his head and torso started swaying back and forth.

"I don't think we should count on that," Imoen sighed.

--

"What you want done with the villagers?" An eager young slave trader asked. From his mount the slave master spat out same black, viscous substance. The village was right on edges, but they were still in Amn where slavery was illegal; it had actually been illegal when Aerie had been a slave. The Amnish authorities however tended to turn a blind eye; after all, the nations coffers were overflowing because of it. Even so, attacking actual Amnish citizens might not be so easy to ignore.

"Round up the healthy children," the grizzled veteran said at last, "but as for the rest; no witnesses."

"So where's this Deva?" The slaver mage paced around in circles, like a lion inside a cage, complete with a mane of wild, reddish hair standing up on its roots. "When's he coming out?"

The wizard caught the gaze of an old woman, peering at him from the window of her home. She immediately retreated into the house, closing the shutters, when she thought she might have been spotted. But it was too late; she had been. The wizard raised his arm and a jet of flame struck the side of the house, the fire starting to spread quickly along the wooden walls and thatched roof and yet the old woman stayed inside, too afraid to come out. The wizard turned back to his comrades, his laughter consisting of a series of high pitched whoops. The master rolled his eyes wearily.

They all heard a crack, but not the crack of whips; this time it was more like the crack of thunder even though there had been no sign of a storm before. The wizard's smile gave way to confusion as a cloud appeared above the house and a torrential down pour doused his flames. The one who had killed his joy stepped into view then; Aerie had pulled the hood of her cloak over her head, a small shield covering her left forearm whilst she bore a staff in her right hand.

It did seem a rather odd coincidence that the slavers had shown up just after Imoen had warned of the dangers of attracting people here. Aerie had wondered before if the Bhaalspawn had some ability to change reality around them that they just weren't conscious of; after all, they were half God. Who could say what the extents of their powers really were? There were lots of little things that had happened in her previous adventures with Imoen though, important clues and items appearing exactly when they needed them... it may explain how they'd defied death so many times. Still, Aerie doubted Imoen could cause a group of slavers to come into existence. It surely had to be a coincidence, and one that suited the elf just fine. After having her hopes of communicating with her parents dashed she needed something to let her frustrations out on.

"Who the hell are you?" The wizard asked slowly.

"Does it matter?" Aerie shrugged.

"Nah... I guess not," a second jet of flame erupted, this one threatening to engulf the Avariel. Aerie's staff flew out of hand, suspending itself just in front of her where it began to spin so fast that it was almost as if a much larger shield had materialised, diverting the fire harmlessly around her.

Seeing that his first attack had failed, the wizard then made a big mistake. He obviously planned to crush her with one of his most powerful spells, but the casting of it would take a few seconds charging the necessary energy. A few seconds were a lot more than Aerie needed to come up with and launch her own attack. He wouldn't make any more mistakes.

_'No second chances,' _she thought, _'not for people like this...'_

The staff stopped rotating and straightened itself horizontally... with a flick of her wrist it turned and streaked through the air towards the wizard. Everyone heard the thud and, utterly shocked, the wizard looked down to see the shaft of the weapon embedded through his chest... with his last seconds of life he fell to his knees, turned to his comrades and reached out to them. The master looked on dispassionately, feeling no grief or sorrow whatsoever.

"Shields," he ordered as the wizard fell to the side. The remaining slavers very quickly arranged themselves into a phalanx. A dozen heavily armed men and women like that, advancing slowly and cautiously on a single petite elven woman may have seemed comical; if you didn't know that Aerie was, according to the Cowled Wizards, the tenth best spell slinger in and around Amn. In fact, they'd ranked her above both Nalia and Imoen but probably no good would come of telling Aerie that.

As the phalanx advanced, a couple of the slavers were behind it firing crossbow bolts over the shoulders of their comrades. The bolts bounced harmlessly off an invisible shield, but even so Aerie started to step backwards, drawing them in. She launched a series of magic missiles, tiny golden orbs that for the most part just struck the iron shields of the slavers and dissipated. She did however strike one of them in the face and another in the legs causing the others to instantly move closer together to fill in the gaps.

As Aerie drew them in Imoen waited, hidden behind the Inn. She could she her friend retreating in front of her; she just needed the slavers to appear so she could unleash the spell she'd prepared. When they did she uttered the final word, and the skies opened up on them. A bolt of lightning struck the centre of the phalanx, and then strands of electricity arched and whipped out, leaping from the slaver to slaver. It wasn't long before the smell of molten metal and burnt flesh reached her. Aerie sighed in relief, while Imoen gave her a thumbs up... but they'd forgotten about the elf who was with the slavers.

He must have suspected that Aerie hadn't come out by herself and gone around the back of the Inn also. Noticing Aerie's jubilant expression turn to one of shock and horror, the red head turned about just in time to avoid the scimitar swinging over her head.

Aerie wanted to run and help her friend, but she was faced with her own problems. The slave master, still on horseback, charged swinging his axe. She rolled to the side avoiding it, looking up in time to see the steed turned about for another pass.

Her heart raced and her body quivered and the beginnings of a smile appeared even while there was fear in her eyes... thrilled and yet shivering at the same time. It was so hard for Aerie to explain even to herself; she really wasn't a fan of killing, even when she knew she had to. But the bit before that, the actual fighting itself... that was actually kind of... fun? Perhaps it was because she'd been basically sat still for so long before becoming an adventurer that the rush of battle was for her almost intoxicating. As for death; she'd seen enough corpses by now that it no longer shocked her.

She looked to the fallen wizard and her hand reached out; for a second or two his body shook as her staff worked its way free and returned to her hand just in time. Praying for every bit of strength the Gods could spare, she swung it at the legs of the horse. The rider went flying as the beast collapsed, its neck breaking under the weight of its body as it rolled over. The slave master however was an experienced warrior and was up on his feet very quickly, again trying to take Aerie's head off with his axe.

She deflected the blow with her shield, but even with the strength of her Gods Aerie still weighed the same that she usually did, and the momentum of the blow knocked her to the ground several feet away. The master kept pressing his attacks, Aerie managing to block or avoid all of them but continually kept so off balance that she couldn't use her magic to retaliate. Before long her shield had become so battered dented and useless that she had to discard it. It was then the master tried moving in for the kill.

Aerie was still on her knees when he swung down, she blocked it by holding up her staff with both hands. Still the slaver kept pushing down, using his much greater weight to push her further and further down... Aerie shivered, her eyes wide; she could feel the magical strength leaving her body. Within seconds she would just be herself again and completely at this murderers mercy...

--

Imoen didn't really enjoy fighting that much at all; she'd always known that compared to most other people she was puny. There really wasn't much machismo in her, or whatever the female equivalent of that was. She relied on feints and trickery to see her through most battles, avoiding going toe to toe as much as possible. Yes she would fight Aerie if she had to, perhaps because for some reason she still imagined Aerie as just this little blonde who couldn't possibly hurt anything (ironic really since her own faux innocence and childishness was the deceit Imoen most often used). Or the dryad... dryads typically weren't great at hand to hand either, like her relying on trickery.

Jaheira tried telling her that physical strength didn't matter; there were people who learnt techniques so they could use the opponent's own strength against them. Well, those were people Imoen wanted to fight _against..._ they'd have to wet themselves whenever they saw Imoen coming and realised that she had nothing they could use against her.

But there were times when going toe to toe was just completely unavoidable, and in those cases the advantage Imoen had was usually her speed. The elf however was able to match most of her movements. The two seemed engaged in some kind of dance, with Imoen focusing all her mental and physical efforts into avoiding getting diced by those scimitars... it soon dawned on her that the elf was not only able to keep up, but was actually a little bit faster than her... oh, well...

The elf slashed Imoen across the thigh and the red head immediately collapsed, crying and whining piteously like a wounded puppy.

"Oh... oh Gods... please," she begged tearfully. The elf assassin merely smirked, raising his sword to take off her head. But Imoen's tears vanished just as quickly as she had been able to fake them, and the elf's eyes suddenly widened and bulged.

Imoen, now up on her knees, pulled back her fist as the elf male doubled over his male parts. The red head felt no shame for having used dirty tactics; this was fighting for your life, not a sport (not that she felt much shame for cheating even then). In one swift, fluid movement, she got up and behind the elf, pulled out a knife and cut out his throat. He gargled sickeningly for a second, and then he fell.

Like Aerie, Imoen was used to seeing corpses by now and was no longer shocked by them, or by herself. She lamented for a moment at how tragically easy it had been... but then realised that she didn't want to give the impression to others, or herself, that she was stood around now admiring her handiwork rather than regretting the things she had to do to in self defence. She worked hard to repress the feelings of being powerful and went to check how Aerie was doing.

--

Not great, it happened.

As the last of her strength faded, Aerie grunted and pushed the axe a little to the side so that it didn't come down on her head. Instead, it gashed the side of her arm, drawing a lot of blood. Able to slip away in time, Aerie rolled to feet as a wave of dizziness swept over her. Fortunately, she had contingency magic that immediately closed the wound but not too many of those left.

But the master saw this and changed his attack. Realising that wounding her would just cause her to heal, he instead picked up and lashed out with it. The instrument of torture coiled around the Avariel's throat and she felt her body lifted through the air and then dragged through the dirt. Her contingencies would heal her if she was injured, but wouldn't do anything if she was choked to death.

But even as he grinned and relished the girl's hopeless struggling, there was one other factor that the experienced veteran had failed to plan for; the villagers, impressed by the blonde girl's bravery, had managed to organise themselves. The master had to let go of the whip as he was struck by a shovel and then rushed and beaten down by a group of angry men and women.

Aerie was sat up and managed to uncoil herself just as the beaten man was being tied to a post. The villagers parted as the bedraggled elf got up and approached, still rubbing her sore throat.

"_Whore!_" The master spat out, "you think this is over? Soon as the others find out..."

Aerie's blue eyes stared back coolly. Imoen was right; they always did just say things like that. And this man... he had surely done to countless others what others had done to her. Still, Aerie was never one for public speaking or for giving long speeches and lectures. She retrieved her broken shield and, holding it in both holds, swung it upwards smashing the man's jaw. It didn't really make her feel better, but still the villagers all cheered for her at least.

"Imoen...!" The Avariel gasped suddenly... she'd gotten so caught up in the moment that she'd almost forgotten her friend.

"I'm okay," the red head said, strolling up beside her. The elf's panic subsided. "Are you okay?" Imoen asked and Aerie nodded twice. "Fun day, huh?"

Before Aerie could answer, they day became even more 'fun'. Villagers started pointing up at the sky. When the heroes followed all the gazes, they saw Raptir circling above, so high up that at first Imoen mistook him for a vulture. But she soon saw him very clearly; Raptir seemed to reach an invisible peak, then turned and dived straight at her. The red head didn't realise what he was doing until it was too late. He swooped down, his shoulder striking her in the stomach. Avariel didn't weigh much, but being shoulder tackled by someone moving at over a hundred miles per hour still utterly smashed all the wind out of you... the momentum lifted Imoen clear off the ground herself, sending her flying into the second storey of a building. She was incredibly lucky that there was a cart full of hay there when she slid back down.

"What are you doing!?" Aerie screamed angrily as Raptir trotted to a halt. He turned on her, his cool disposition completely vanished and his eyes now filled with irrational and terrible hate.

"You... you're just like the others," he hissed, "you and your friend... you just want to steal my gifts... what?" His head turned as he started to listen to someone who wasn't there. "Yes... yes, you brought these others here as well! You will die for that!"

"No Raptir," Aerie said, trying to keep her voice as soft and as gentle as possible. The Villagers were all stunned and too confused to do anything; Aerie had just saved them from the slavers, but this was the Deva who had been teaching them. Why was he behaving like this? "I-Imoen was right... these people came here because of you..."

"Liar!" He spat again, his anger growing by the second. "I know the truth... they've told me the truth..."

"Who told you Raptir?" Aerie's eyes started to water; she already sensed that there was only one way this could end. "W-was it Aerdrie? Chauntea... no... I-I bet this was a different voice, right? One you've not heard before..."

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"Don't listen... do not listen to her deceit," he murmured, "get out of my head..."

"You should not have ran away, Raptir... t-the priests weren't trying to take anything, they were trying to help you..."

"_Lies!_" He screamed, pulling at his own hair. He was no longer the angelic figure they saw when they'd first arrived. Rather, the tightness of his facial muscles made him look like some rabid animal.

Imoen, though still plenty sore and suspecting that maybe she'd broken a rib or three, had managed to get up out of the cart and was sneaking up on Raptir from behind. Had he been human, she might have gotten to him unnoticed despite the pain she was in, but she'd forgotten how much sharper an elf's senses were. Raptir's wings unfolded and he spun them around, striking Imoen's face and knocking her down again.

"Yup... real fun day," the red head gasped, trying to stem the flow of blood from her nose. Aerie tried to get to Raptir while he was distracted, but had only taken a few steps before his gaze was locked on her again... she could only watch helplessly as a young girl, about seven or eight, foolishly wandered out of her arm only to be snatched up into the arms of Deva, turning her to face Aerie like a shield.

"Shhhh," he tried to calm the very confused, crying child, "how would like to fly with me?" Normally, the girl would probably have leapt at the chance, but so much had already happened today that she was simply paralysed with fear; not to mention the Deva was acting in a strange way she'd never seen before.

"Y-you don't really want to hurt her, Raptir," Aerie said, more to assure herself.

"If you really care about this child, then you will leave here now!" The other Avariel spat.

"I-I can't do that," Aerie shook her head sadly, "you're very sick, Raptir... i-if you don't let me help you then you will end up hurting someone, whether you mean to or not."

"More lies!" He shouted, now tears streaming down his face. "No... I can't... I can't stop... just... just go!"

"Raptir," Aerie spoke sadly, closing her eyes, "I... I'm so sorry..."

"Why...?" And then he saw why. Perhaps the last act of the man he really was underneath his illness was to let the girl go, pushing her away just as Imoen pulled the trigger. Or maybe he just wanted to be a martyr. The red head had a lot of time to line up the shot, but although she had only been aiming for his shoulder his sudden movement just at the last second meant that the crossbow bolt went through his heart. The Deva fell on his back, his white wings spread out either side. As Imoen, Aerie and all the villagers gathered round they saw the look on his face was peaceful... almost thankful. Far more like the heavenly being they'd thought he was than the sick, twisted man he'd been in those last moments.

"What happened to him?" One of the villagers asked.

"He... he was never what you thought he was," Aerie explained.

"He was just a man," Imoen picked up, "a sick man."

"But why was he sick?" An elder woman asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously at the two adventurers. "Sure, it were all fine until these two got here."

"T-the voices in his head," the blonde elf tried to explain, a pleading edge to her voice, "he thought it was the Gods telling him what to do, but... i-it was just sickness. I think there was a part of him still in there, t-trying to fight it, but... i-it just became too much..."

"But he had wings!" A man cried out, prodding Aerie with a stick. This was what Imoen had been afraid of; everyone had been jubilant when the slavers had been defeated, but now the atmosphere had changed and they were getting blamed for ruining everything. "You saw it... we all saw it. He... he was a Deva, and you killed him," sneers and jeers as the newcomers found themselves completely encircled by the hostile faces of the villagers.

"H-he was Avariel... a-a winged elf..."

"Right," Imoen raised her voice in support, "look at the ears fer cryin'out loud..." but the villagers didn't seem to be buying it. None of them had ever heard of an Avariel and so held on stubbornly to their Deva theory. "Come on... an ordinary bolt couldn't kill an Angel," she pointed out. For the most part, the villagers remained ready to stab them to death with their pitchforks, but at least a few were showing doubts.

"Alright, alright," a thick set man stepped forward and others all backed off a little in response to his gestures. Imoen recognised the man who had bought her a reprieve as the Innkeeper, which didn't surprise her. Solid, salt of the earth, stand up fellows the lot of them. "Been enough killing ain't there? So listen... you got any proof of what you're saying?"

Imoen realised she had better or the Innkeep wasn't going to be able to hold all the others back for long; but then she realised that the answer was really quite obvious...

"Aerie," the red head whispered gently to her friend, "you... you have to show them what you are." The Avariel looked at her, clearly stuggling; the idea of exposing her body in front of so many strangers and having them gawk at it like some kind of freak show... she'd had enough of that. "There's no other way," the red head said, putting her arms around her. Aerie's head immediately fell onto Imoen's shoulder. "Listen... you do this and you can have whatever treat you want. Biscuits, cookies, cakes... I'll even make them for you," the elf shook her head at that, "okay, I won't try to cook."

Aerie gently pushed herself away, a smile (only a little forced) on her face as she undid her belts.

"Help me," the elf said. Imoen complied, pulling the tunic up over her friends head as the elf pulled back. She immediately took back the cloth, using it to cover her breasts as, now wearing only her boots and tights, she turned her back to all the villagers. They weren't sure what they were seeing at first; the first to step forward and examine the scars where her wings had been was the little girl threatened earlier by Raptir...

"You... you had wings," the child gasped, skipping round to face Aerie from the front. "You flew?"

"Yes... I-I flew."

"So... you're like him, then?"

"Not like him... not exactly. I was,,, I-I am, an Avariel. We live in mountains, flying with the Great Eagles."

"What happened to your wings?"

"I lost them... I... I lose a lot of things," Aerie said, cheek stained by a single tear. She had exposed her body to these people she hardly knew; she felt in no way obligated to confide any more.

"So it's true, then?" A man said. "Everything the Deva... the Avariel... said, everything he told us... it was all a lie?"

"No," one of the villagers shook her head, "maybe he was sick, and maybe he really was just a man after all... but it doesn't change that some of the things he said were all true, right?" There was much nodding and a general murmuring of agreement.

"We'll give him a proper burial," suggested another, "least we can do, right?"

"Alright then," another thick set man slapped his palms together, "let's get this place cleaned up then, shall we?" The whole community dispersed and set about removing the bodies from the streets. Maybe it was just that the idea of work was a welcome distraction from all that had transpired, but still... the two young adventurers couldn't help but be amazed, almost stunned, at how forgiving they all were after learning the truth; that they weren't really special or chosen for some higher purpose. But, in the end, life just has to go on doesn't it?

Aerie got dressed and knelt beside Raptir, saying a prayer over him in her native tongue... although Imoen could understand quite a bit of elven she still struggled sometimes to follow the peculiar accent and dialect of her Avariel friend. She gathered it was a prayer to the winged mother to take care of this troubled soul.

"You sure you're okay?" The red head asked when Aerie had finished. Again the blonde nodded, but her face revealed that she was heart broken.

"How's your chest?" The elf asked, still sat down. "D-do you want anything?"

"Nah, it's not as bad as I thought," Imoen said, although she was wheezing slightly, "Good night's sleep and it'll probably be fine. You really absolutely, positively sure you're okay? You don't wanna talk about anything?"

"I..." Aerie's brows furrowed for a moment, "I suppose it was pretty selfish of me anyway. I-if my parents are still alive, then they must have assumed that I'd died a long time ago... i-it would be unfair to them, really, for me to just suddenly reappear after so long."

"Well, I never had a real mom and dad exactly," Imoen said as she sat down as well, "I guess the closest to a father was Winthrop... listen, they'd love you no matter what. You'll see them again one day, and they won't have forgotten you. In the meantime, it's not all bad is it? Travelling with me..."

"No," Aerie laughed, "not all bad at all," she said, sharing a hug.

"Great," Imoen looked around at the villagers cleaning up the aftermath of their battle. She didn't know what would become of the Slave master; maybe they'd hang him later. More likely they'd contact the authorities and let them hang him. "Well, not much else we can screw up around here. Let's go back."


	10. Chapter 10: Deus Ex

For the first time since the start, this chapter doesn't revolve around any one of the tasks. It's also another long one... maybe even slightly longer than the last one.

When I started writing this story, my idea was basically for it to be a series of individual episodes, some more serious than others, but basically played for laughs and loosely connected under the title 'labours'. But as I got into writing it, I had other ideas for a bigger story as well. As we enter the last stretch, that story becomes more prominent.

It may also seem that the chapters have been getting more serious; in this chapter, with Nalia's revelation, it reaches its lowest ebb. But, to ensure that no one suffers from too much stress because of this, I assure you the chapter gets more positive later on. And theres no way this story is going to end on a downer.

**The Twelve Labours of Imoen**

**~*~**

**Part Ten: Deus Ex**

"Halt!"

Crossed halberds barred Aerie's way onto the balcony. These men were not the regular castle guards, most of whom were local lads and willing to let the Elf and Imoen run around doing pretty much whatever they pleased even though they were supposed to be under arrest. No, the two men blocking her progress now were far more weathered and seasoned. They were Nalia's personal bodyguards and according to them no one, not even her best friends, got to see the Lady without making an appointment two months in advance.

Aerie sighed sadly; it was hard to keep up with all this change sometimes. In the Circus, although the faces had changed over the years, every day was, from her point of view at least, exactly the same with her stuck in her cage watching the tents going up and then coming back down again. Sometimes they came down with someone still inside, and she could see their shapes fumbling to find the edge; that was about as exciting as it got. But ever since losing her wings, learning magic from Quayle, and then joining the adventurers... things were getting faster, with more change happening every day. And not always for the better, or so it seemed to her.

She remembered when she'd first met Nalia in the Copper Coronet; young, naive and eager to help people in need. Very much like Aerie really, and so it seemed they could actually help each other. But now... well, it was much like Imoen had said before. Although Nalia said she was still just trying to help people, she never seemed to have time for any of them. The Avariel supposed that in hindsight, that had always been the case. Even while travelling, Nalia was preoccupied with planning how she was going to change the political system of Amn from within, her heart not really into magic and adventure as Aerie's was. She just used to be a lot more accessible...

"State your business!" The Guard on the right barked.

"I-I'm here to speak to Nalia," Aerie explained patiently, "and, b-before you ask, no, I don't have an appointment... she asked me to come."

"Well she didn't say nothing to us about," he scoffed.

"B-but if she 'didn't say nothing', t-that means she must have said something, yes?" Aerie sighed again, this time wearily. She had to go through this every single time. If she was really determined to get in then these men would be no obstacle to her; but unlike the other guards they had coconuts for heads and didn't realise this yet. But even though it be a lot less trouble for her, it wasn't worth the trouble it would cause Nalia.

"Don't you try to confuse us with all your 'words' and trying to implant 'ideas' into people's brains, you pointy eared bint. I assure you, none of that will work on us."

"Look... w-why don't you just ask her?"

"Trying to get us to be away from our posts, eh?"

"All you h-have to do is knock on the door..."

"Listen, maybe it's all 'anything goes' for you fey folks, but here there are proper ways of doing things."

"Well, can I knock?"

"No."

"Y-you... you're all buffle headed, you know that?" Aerie said, crossing her arms and stamping her foot in frustration.

"Buffle headed?" The guard snickered, "who says things like 'buffle headed' anymore? Where are you from? The Thirteen-Thirties? _Bahhahahah!" _The two Guards cackled like... like mad cackling sheep.

That was the last straw for Aerie; they weren't just making of her anymore, but of her best friend too. She was going to have to teach them a lesson... a powerful orb of magical energy had begun to take shape in her hand, when the door opened. The Avariel immediately stopped casting, her hand darting and being hidden behind her back.

"What is going on?" Nalia asked. Aerie noticed right away the rings under her eyes. She looked tired; she always looked tired these days.

"Nothing, my lady," the guards stood to attention, "this one says she wanted to see you, but she don't have an appointment, so..."

"Don't be ridiculous. My friend doesn't need an appointment... besides, I asked her to come."

"If you say so my lady... I really wish you would run these things by us first though. We've got to think about your safety you know. She is a convicted felon, after all."

"I know, I convicted her... but she's still my friend. Aerie's not going to kill me," Nalia said confidently, but then thought about the things she'd put her friend through recently. "Um... you're not going to kill me, are you Aerie?"

"I... I wasn't planning to," the Elf said, although she hadn't thought she really needed to.

"Good. Well then, come outside," The Lady said. Aerie followed her, giving a sharp look to the guards whilst giving her hand a shake having, in her moment of rage, slightly burnt her own finger tips.

They were now stood on a huge balcony at the top of the highest tower in the castle. The sun had just risen, and from here they could see all of the land owned by Nalia's family. The woods, the fields, farmhouses, the little village, all the way up to the mountains. Aerie could see a tiny pillar of smoke beyond the woods from where the charcoal makers were at work. The Avariel with her exceptional eyesight could even see some cute little bunny rabbits.

"I suppose Imoen didn't come because she's still angry at me," the Noble woman sighed.

"Well... a-a little bit, I suppose," Aerie said. It was an understatement; 'Tell that snobby snob daughter of a man and a guinea pig to take her summons and go bother summon else' was actually what Imoen had said. So, yes, she was still angry. "I-I'm sure she'll come around, eventually," the Elf said in the face of all the evidence.

"She has no right to be, you know. Almost everyone keeps telling me I've let her off far too lightly... any other Noble would have had her executed. And maybe you too, as an accessory to the crime."

"T-they couldn't really... could they?"

"I don't see why not... there may have been some questions from the Magistrate but since neither of you are even citizens probably not very many."

"But... there's no way you would have."

"You wouldn't have lain down and let me do that, would you?" Nalia said with a knowing smirk. "I know I don't really have any control over your comings and goings around here... besides, though I've been under a lot of pressure, I'm not prepared to commit suicide just yet. Still, it is nice that you're both playing along somewhat and at least pretending that you're being punished. I still don't see why you always go along with her though..."

"I-it's... fun?" Aerie ventured; that was still the best explanation even she could come up with. Imoen was annoying, frustrating and even exasperating. But, one thing she was never was boring. "E-even when we're not adventuring, she always thinks of something to do... so that our minds are kept from dwelling too much. No matter what the situation is, she always tries to make everyone happy."

"If you say so Aerie... I think the only person Imoen really wants to make happy is herself. But I didn't really want to talk about all that," The Lady explained, leaning on the wall and looking out over her tracts of land. "I wanted to make sure you were all right... after that business with the other Avariel..."

"I-I'm fine, really," Aerie insisted. She'd already of course had Imoen badgering her about it and of course trying to think of things to do to make her feel better. She didn't think Imoen did it just to make herself feel good... but it was just an opinion of course. Anyway, she didn't want to dwell on it.

"You seem tired, though," the Avariel wasn't just changing the subject; she was genuinely concerned. Nalia didn't just look tired, but also far paler than Aerie had ever seen the woman before. "Y-you really should rest..."

"Can't," Nalia said, bleary eyed, "too much to do... far too little time left..."

"What have you been doing?" The Avariel noted the pile of letters and other official looking documents on the little stone table, all with Nalia's signature on them.

"Signing orders, making deals, writing to my fellow Nobles... I have to make at least some of them see that Amn needs to change," Nalia turned around, smiling benevolently. Aerie didn't like her smile anymore; it was what Imoen called a 'politicians smile'. Forced, fake... not how she used to smile. "It's just politics Aerie... you don't have to worry about it."

"But I am worried, about you. H-have you even slept at all?"

"Oh... I'm sure I did. For an hour... or a half hour... maybe..."

"Y-you mustn't work so hard," Aerie said, standing up straight with her arms crossed and looking rather cross and matronly. "You could kill yourself if you don't take a break every now and then."

"Yes... I-I suppose I might," the Lady giggled, a tiny bit nervously, "you know, Major Domo said I should get married. So that I have someone to share the responsibility with, as well as improve my chances of getting elected onto the council some day," she said with a wistful sigh.

"How will it help with that?"

"Politics Aerie... it's always good to at least be able to give the impression that you have a normal, respectable home life. The Major even gave me a list of candidates to consider... Lord Koontstein was the one he most recommended."

"Who?"

"You've actually met him before, at my birthday. You let him sit on your lap while you read stories."

"H-him?" Aerie remembered, her face a little aghast. "B-but... he's only seven years old..."

"Eight now, actually. And from a quite well respected family. Like I said Aerie, it is only politics."

"But... y-you can't marry someone for those reasons. E-especially not a boy..."

"You're such a romantic... and who knows, maybe one day you will meet the very lucky man. But not me," Nalia closed her eyes, drawing in breath, "I did try to run away from it, when I was younger, but the truth is that... my life was never my own. You have to remember as well that I am the last De'Arnise. Who's going to inherit this land and this responsibility when I'm gone? I don't think I can trust my aunt... she's too set in her ways."

"But you still are young, Nalia," Aerie shook her head, "you've years before you need to... t-to make an heir..."

"Aerie, I want to tell you something," The Lady said, breathing out through her nose, "but promise you won't tell anyone else... not the guards, not the Major, not even Imoen. I can't risk anyone else finding about it..."

"Why not?"

"Because, it's hard enough getting some of these Nobles to deal with a woman," Nalia said, taking another deep breath in and out, "yet alone one who is afflicted with Oncos..."

The sudden silence hit Aerie as abruptly as the crack of thunder. She couldn't possibly have heard what she thought she'd heard... but the words kept resounding again and again until there were no question of her having misheard. Nalia had just said she was dying.

"W-why didn't you tell me sooner?!" Aerie ran to her, not sure whether to be tearful or outraged that it been kept from her... she was a damn healer after all. "I-I could have tried..."

"You would have tried to help," Nalia said, putting a hand on the Elf's cheek, "like you always do... and do far better than I was ever able to. But, you can't help everyone. I already went to the Temple of Oghma, to the high priest himself and he assured me there was nothing that could be. I was born with this... thing, inside me and now it's growing and eating me. But in a way it's a part of me as well, which means they can't use their magic to just make it... go away. They tried cutting it out, but its spread too far."

"Nalia," was all Aerie could say as she took the Noblewoman's hand in her own. Not since she was trapped in her cage had she felt so... so utterly helpless.

"It's slightly ironic really," Nalia tried to smile, "I was going to change Amn. I was going to cut out all the corruption that festers within it like a cancer... only to die because of such a corruption within me."

"For once, I don't think even Imoen will see any funny side," Aerie said. It was strange that she didn't cry; maybe it was just that no amount of tears would be enough.

"I told you, I don't want her to know."

"But... h-how do you expect me to keep it a secret?"

"You have to try, Aerie," Nalia said insistently yet also pleadingly, "I only told you because... I-I guess I needed to tell someone and you're probably about the only real friend I have left. Please promise you'll try."

"I promise," the Elf said, bowing her head, "I-I'll try..."

"Don't worry about me Aerie... I'm okay with it really," the Noble tried to reassure her.

"I... I-I thought that... that you were going to raise horses," ah, now the tears were starting to come.

"I've always wanted to," Nalia said, putting her arms around the stricken Avariel, "probably never get a chance to now... but, I'd like to spend my very last days out there, maybe just grooming the animals. But there's still a lot I need to prepare."

"T-that day you came to see us in the kitchen... t-the same day Imoen... that... that was the day you knew, wasn't it?" Aerie's heart now panged with guilt. "I-I'm sorry..."

"Neither of you knew... no one but me did until now, since I wanted everyone to act normal. But, you know, Imoen is partly right. It is possible to put a positive spin on just about anything. It's true, I'll never get my seat on the council... but maybe this is better. Maybe I'll become a martyr, and my death will inspire other people."

"How is that better?"

"It's just..."

"Politics?"

"Right," Nalia said with a small and somewhat genuine smile.

"I'll never understand it," the Elf sniffed.

--

They had the rest of the day off, but it was hardly a time for Aerie to kick back and relax. She started to walk, away from the keep into the woods, keeping clear of the village, any farm houses and charcoal... she had to be alone. More importantly, she had to be away from Imoen. If the red head started quizzing her about why she was looking so miserable yet again, then she wouldn't be able to keep her promise to Nalia. She needed more time to gather her feelings and thoughts.

The red head was undoubtedly looking for her, having invented some new game to play... but Aerie knew now that she didn't want to be happy all the time and that, in fact, she had every right to be miserable sometimes.

Some of the rabbits ran away from her as she approached. It didn't matter; she didn't think any of them were cute anymore. How long did they have? A few years, maybe... if a fox or a wolf didn't get them first. They'd all go one day... all leave her behind, cursed as she was to go on living whilst everything and everyone around her changed.

Imoen had actually tried to warn her... but she hadn't listened. Imoen; so vibrant and fun. Now Aerie wondered how long it would be before the first wrinkles started to appear. The elves in Suldanessellar too... they'd told her not to get too attached. She thought they were stuck up and arrogant, set in their isolationist ways... but, could it really be that they just didn't want to have to feel the same sorrow again and again? She knew a lot of half elves... what must it be like for their parents? To watch on, helpless, as your loved one wilts away like a rose in a vase...

But, the elves ways were just not her ways. She couldn't bring herself to go back to them... so, that was it then. Aerie sat herself down on a tree trunk, knowing with certainty that she was cursed. Doomed to spend the rest of her life alone and miserable. She wished she knew exactly which God she'd offended and how.

Maybe she'd just have to become a hermit... wait for the isolation and desolation to drive her mad enough that she just stopped caring about things.

_'Listen to you, feeling sorry for yourself,'_ a voice in her head said, _'its Nalia who's dying you know.'_

_'I know... I'm really just feeling sorry for myself because I'll miss her. I hate feeling so helpless.'_

Despite the sun and the chirruping birds and the squirrels, it was certainly far from being a wonderful day. And now, to top it all off, some dumb animal had just ran off with a sachet filled with important spell components.

"Hey!" Aerie stood up and called... why did she do that? As if the creature... what was it, a Raccoon? As if it was going to stop and say 'yeah?' She was just going to have to run after it and hope it dropped the sachet somewhere before it had a chance to eat it. And so she did.

It was very fast though, faster than any creature she had ever seen. In fact, she got the feeling that it could have gotten away from her whenever it wanted... but something seemed strange. It kept stopping and looking back at her, waiting for her to catch up a bit... was this animal actually teasing her? But even though Aerie was soon panting and exhausted, she had to keep chasing it. She just couldn't go back to Imoen and tell her she'd lost her spell components to a Raccoon... she'd be laughed at for months, maybe even years.

Eventually they reached a large pond. She didn't know if Raccoons were good swimmers or not, but apparently this one wasn't since instead of taking to the water it ran straight up a tree and remained sat in the branches whilst Aerie puffed and wheezed and leant on the bark of said tree. She had it cornered now at least. Now what?

"Y-you give that back you dunderhead!" She said. Okay, so it might not have understood her words but maybe it would understand something in the tone of her voice. Apparently it understood her tone too well, because it then started pelting her with nuts and branches.

"W-why you...!" Aerie was getting quite annoyed now... but then she noticed one of the things it had thrown was her sachet. "Well... okay then," she said, leaning over to pick it up. As she did so she noticed there was actually someone by the pond; an old Gnome casting out a fishing rod.

"Nice day for a stroll in the country, isn't it?" He said without looking around.

"Er...y-yes," the Elf said, rather embarrassed. She thought she was alone out alone; should have paid more attention to her surroundings. She'd undoubtedly made herself look very silly, yelling at the Raccoon. "I-I suppose..."

"So why so glum?"

"I-it's nothing, sir. I didn't mean to disturb you. Excuse me," she curtseyed and turned to leave.

"Nothing comes from nothing, you know. If something's bothering you, Aerie, then it's always better to tell someone."

"H-how do you know my name? Have we met?"

"No, not really. At least not like this... in fact, I don't believe I've ever spoken to you before. Sorry about that... I've kept meaning to do so, thank you for all the good work and all that, but things just kept coming up," the Gnome stood up and turned to face her, picking up a branch covered in leafs and placing it behind his ear. Aerie, suddenly fixated on this character, was a little bit startled when the Raccoon ran between her legs and went and sat down next to the old Gnome like an obedient dog. "Just yesterday I had to take Silverbeard down a peg or two... he'd been getting all big headed because some idiot mortal said he was cute."

"Who... w-who are you?"

"Oh, wait," The Gnome said, wagging his finger and rubbing his temples in an exaggerated manner. "Just give me a moment... I do actually know the answer to this. Er, let's see... an old Gnome, Raccoon, leaves... am I Garl Glittergold? No, wait... that's wrong isn't it... give me another moment... Oh, come on Aerie, you know who I am."

"But... h-how do I know this isn't a trick? O-or a hallucination or a dream?"

"You don't. That's faith you see... I mean, I am the God here. Why should I have to prove anything to you?"

"Well... a-anyone can say they're a God..."

"Oh, really? So what would it take to prove it to you? Making the sun fall the sky?"

"Y-yes... that would probably do it..."

"Probably cause a lot of havoc as well."

"Well... i-if you really wanted to prove that you were really Baervan Wildwanderer, t-then I suppose there is something else you could do..."

"Ha!" Baervan threw his head back, laughing good naturedly. "Nice try, Aerie, nice try... I really didn't think you had it in you. I guess being around Imoen has actually done you good. You want me to save your friend, yes?" But it was then the laughter stopped and he looked on her with a gaze filled with nothing but compassion and pity. "I'm sorry... I cannot."

"But... I-I've never asked for anything from you before," Aerie reminded him. It was true; he had granted her some power but she'd never actually asked him for it. "You started using me, a-and I accepted it... I-I've done everything I thought you wanted..."

"I want to help, I really do... but my hands are tied on this matter. The others have already decided that this is the way it has to be."

"Nalia has to die? B-but... but why?" Aerie snapped at him, her tone demanding an explanation.

"We can't start letting everyone live forever... besides, why should it make you sad? Don't you believe that her soul is going to a far better place? You should be happy for her."

"Well then, w-why does anyone live at all? Why don't we all just go straight to that 'better place' and all be happy?"

"Ah, that old chestnut, eh? What is the meaning of life? Everyone asks me that of course, but it's actually impossible for me to give a straight answer," Baervan sighed. "You see this tree?"

"Of course I see the tree... t-there are trees everywhere," Aerie said a little frustratedly. She wondered why she was drawn to Gods and people who were actually just a bit annoying.

"This tree grows every year... new leaves, new branches. Eventually, it will die though. But, and this is the amazing part, its seeds will grow into new trees that will take its place. Some of the saplings may even find whole new ways to grow... and thus, life goes on, always changing, always new."

"T-that's it?" Aerie said, just... just utterly stunned. Her shock slowly turned to outrage. "Was that supposed to make me feel better?"

"Well, what I'm getting at is that you must never give up hope..."

"I could have heard that from any cheap mystic! Y-you're supposed to be a God!"

"I understand you're a bit disappointed..."

"I-I haven't gotten over 'outraged' yet... when I do, t-then I'll be disappointed!"

"You really need to calm down..."

"N-Nalia doesn't even have an heir, y-you bufflehead!"

"Enough!" Baervan waved his hand, and Aerie found herself rooted to the ground, mid rant. Although she could still see and hear, she suddenly found herself unable to so much as twitch a single muscle in her body. She was just a red faced statue.

"You'll see things more clearly soon enough," the God sighed, "I really am sorry I can't help your friend... the others would throw a hissy fit if I did. But, Aerie, it might help you if you were to try to look on things a little more... philosophically."

Aerie's eyes couldn't follow him as he brushed his tunic and started to stroll out of her field of view. The Raccoon, Chiktikka Fastpaws, sat in front of her a moment longer, shrugged as if to say 'sorry about all this', then ran off as well.

"Oh!" She heard Baervan call, "don't forget that one of my festivals is coming up... you'll need a few acorns."

Seconds later, Aerie fell forward face first onto the ground, as if she'd been released from a powerful grip. She picked herself up again very quickly, twirling around a few times until she was sure he was gone.

_'Philosophically?'_ She sighed. What good was philosophy at a time like this? She had to actually do something... but, there was nothing she could do, was there? She was powerless to prevent change from happening. All she could do was accept it and try to be philos... unless... could he have actually meant...

--

Back in the castle, Aerie peeked around the corner once more before ducking her head back and skulking in the shadowy corridor.

"So, what are we doing?" The Elf wasn't really surprised that Imoen had appeared behind her and was now whispering in her ear.

"We're waiting for Ewan to leave his room, s-so that we can sneak inside," Aerie explained, not losing her concentration.

"Breaking and entering... like it."

"Well... I-I was hoping not to break anything..."

"Okay, we'll skip that part... so, we're finally going to dig up the dirt on that creep?"

"If you want... t-there's something else I'm looking for."

"Okay, we'll split into two teams. Me and, er... and you. Where have you been anyway? I've not been able to find you all day..."

"I went out."

"Oh? Were you meeting someone?"

"No... I went out on my own."

"You did? But that's just crazy, Aerie... you never go out on your own."

"I did today."

"It's wrong... who are you? What have you done with my best friend?"

"Nothing... s-she just decided it was time for a change."

"I don't always like change," Imoen's mouth quirked to the side of her face, "makes me feel like I'm getting older."

"But you'd be bored if things always stayed the same," Aerie turned back, blinked and smiled.

Ewan opened his door and stepped out, a small stack of books in his arms. He then turned around, locked it and started heading off the corridor.

"Where's the bufflehead going?" Imoen asked.

"To the library," Aerie was sure, "he'll probably hang around there for a while, w-waiting to see if I show up."

"So, we go in?" The human asked, and the Elf nodded and they slithered silently across the corridor. Aerie was going to use a spell, but Imoen made just as short work of the lock with her picks. It was probably better that way, since there was a chance of any magic they used being detected.

Ewan's room was a mess... books just thrown around everywhere. Aerie was appalled at how badly they'd been treated. She'd have rescued them all if she could, but she didn't want him to know they had been there. Not yet. She just had to find the ones she was looking for, and fast. While she searched, Imoen had discovered a case filled with documents and flicked through them.

"He's certainly travelled a lot, has Ewan," Imoen yawned, having not found any good dirt. "Likes sketching animals... Heh, and ladies too of course... Look Aerie, here's one of you," she said held up the sheet for Aerie to see.

The Avariel recognised her face, more or less... but what was she wearing? Or not wearing, really... it was another sort of dancer's costume, only covering even less than any she had seen before.

"I-it scares me," she said, genuinely feeling a shiver down her spine. "Put it away, please..."

"That scares you?" Imoen smirked. "Look at the one he did of me!"

"B-but... you're dressed normally..."

"He's cut off my feet! How am I supposed to get around without any feet?!"

"Well... y-you're feet are cut off, but I don't think that was intentional."

"Hmph... trust me, Aerie, that man is pure evil. And I'm going to find the proof in here somewhere."

Maybe, but that wasn't what Aerie had come here for; as she'd suspected, it was Ewan who taken all the books on the artefact out of the library, and had made several notes about it which made searching through them a little bit easier.

The Philosopher's Egg; the ultimate goal in alchemy. It was said to have the power to transform imperfect mortals into perfect immortal beings. Iron into Gold. Aerie was sure that was an exaggeration of what it was actually capable of, but, she hoped...

"Aha!" Imoen snapped her fingers.

"W-what?" Aerie turned round again. "What have you found?"

"Court records," the red head was still reading through the document, "it seems Ewan was on a ship that went to the New World... some expedition to document the local wildlife. He was there doing sketches, of course."

"So?"

"So, when the ship returned to port, all of the passengers and crew were to be," she licked her finger and turnedover the page, "Er, dads?" Imoen scrunched up her face.

"Er.. d-dads?"

"Oh, sorry, it was a misprint. They'd actually crossed it out. It's dead. All of the crew were found to be dead," Imoen grinned and nodded now that it made more sense. Then stopped grinning as she actually listened to the words and realised what they in fact said.

"Dead..." Aerie thought back to that talk about killers. She'd dismissed it as actually an attempt to drive her apart from Imoen... but, an entire crew...

"Murdered," Imoen kept reading, "apart from one; our friend Ewan. Called himself Jack then, but look," she held up another sketch, this time by a court artist, "it's definitely him."

"What happened?"

"Well, he said he couldn't remember anything... and in the end they had to let him go because all the evidence was circumstantial. Well, they did have him in an asylum for a couple of years, but then he was set free."

"M-maybe he was telling the truth..."

"Or, maybe he's another Bhaalspawn. He could have turned into the Slayer on board that ship..."

"Or maybe he really had nothing to do with it at all..."

"You said yoursElf he was fascinated by killers and murderers."

"Yes, but... i-if you go through an experience like that then maybe it's only natural to develop a slightly unhealthy interest in the dark side of nature. But i-it doesn't mean that he himself is a murderer, necessarily. We can't just go around accusing people."

"Maybe not... but we'd better keep a much closer eye on him. And you," Imoen pointed, "he's clearly got a very unhealthy fascination with you. So I don't want you ever being alone with him again... from now on, you always tell me exactly where you're going."

"Oh... y-yes ma'am," Aerie sighed. As an independent young adult she was obviously not completely happy about having someone keep tabs on her all the time... but, in the circumstances, it did actually make sense.

"Did you find what you were looking for?"

Aerie sighed again; she hadn't, really. Everything about the Egg, it was speculation and theories, none of them proven and most of them too farfetched. There was only one thing she'd found out that she didn't already know.

"I've been trying to find out about the Philosophers Egg..."

"Why?"

"J-just trust me, it's important. It says here the Philosopher, Crato, didn't just find the Egg. It was given to him as a gift by," Aerie grinned, now more sure than ever that Baervan had slipped her the answers surreptitiously, under the noses of the other Gods. "It was a gift from the dryads..."

--

"Hmm... this doesn't look much like Windspear Hills," the Dryad said after appearing in a puff of green smoke in the adventurer's shared room. As before, she was wearing the same strip of cloth that barely really covered any of her.

"Don't you have any clothes in there?" Imoen snorted. The Dryad glared at her; she glared back. A battle of wills ensued, in which the tree spirit very quickly lost her nerve, ran, and threw herself at Aerie's feet.

"She still wants revenge, doesn't she?" The Dryad wailed, "she's called me out because she wants to do horrid, unspeakable things to me... please, you can't let her!"

"Y-you did try to devour her," Aerie sighed, feeling only a little pity for the creature, "I'm not exactly on your side..."

"I see," the tree spirit sobbed, "so, you're both in on it? You were never going to take me to the queen at all... you just want to keep me here and torture me. Well... I won't go down without a fight!"

The Dryad suddenly leapt at Imoen and started to fight like... well, like a girl, for want of a better word. Holding her arms up and doing a sort of really frantic dog paddle.

"Hey... hey stop that!" The red head cried. "That's just... that's really annoying." Imoen had soon had enough; she took her thumb and her finger and flicked right in front of the Dryad's eye.

"Owww!" The tree spirit screeched, falling back and away, hand covering where she had been made temporarily blind. "Owwie... t-that... that hurt," she sobbed.

"Well, I warned you, didn't I?" Imoen stood straight with her arms crossed. "Anyway, we didn't call you out just to torture you."

"What do you want then?"

"We never did ask your name, did we?" Aerie said, leaning over and offering a helping hand to the creature.

"Hmmm... Bailey, I guess," the clearly quite wounded tree spirit took the hand and heaved herself up, "I don't remember my sisters giving me a name but I remember someone calling me that once. Actually, he may have been talking to someone else..."

"Bailey," Aerie said with a warm, friendly smile. "I just want to ask you some questions."

"Okay," the brown haired dryad sniffed, "I suppose I can do that..."

"W-what do you know about the Philosopher's Egg?"

"I did hear one of my sisters talking about it once. But, well, you've seen it... it's an egg shaped red stone."

"Wait," Imoen interrupted, "how do you know that we've seen it?"

"I was in your head, remember?"

"Oh, yeah... I forgot. Okay then, carry on," the red head indicated for Aerie to continue.

"Do you know what it does?" Aerie asked. "I-I know they say it can make people into immortals..."

"Oh, no... nothing like that really," Bailey said, "what it does is make things as perfect as they can be, by removing any corruption or imperfection."

"That's what I thought," The Avariel nodded; it was what she'd hoped. "C-could it remove a tumour?"

"Oh, most certainly it can."

"Aerie, what is this all about?" Imoen arched her eyebrow. "You're not sick... are you?"

"No," the Elf sighed; she knew Imoen was bound to ask, but still, she'd been dreading it. "I'm sorry. I made a promise that I wouldn't tell you anything."

"Promise?" Imoen tilted her head, a little bit agitated. "Who'd you promise?"

"I-I won't say," Aerie replied adamantly.

"Hm... bet it was, Nalia, wasn't it?" Imoen said, a whiff of conspiracy in the air. "She's never liked me being here... this is some way she's come up with to drive us apart..."

"Shut up!" Aerie snapped angrily. She didn't know what came over her, but there was no holding it back this time. "I-I'm sick to death of hearing you do nothing but whinge all the time about how rich people are all looking down on you all the time and how it's their fault that you're poor... w-which you're not really, I might add. The truth is, I think, you're the one who's prejudiced!"

"Hear, hear!" The Dryad clapped and nodded. "I agree with the blonde one here!"

"W-what?" Imoen gasped, shocked by Aerie's outburst and unused to having people gang up on her. "What's it got to do with you?"

"Just offering my observation... I did share your thoughts for a time, after all. See, you think these Nobles all look down on you because they think being richer makes them superior as well. You counter this by thinking that being wealthy makes them materialistic and shallow, and therefore you're actually spiritually and intellectually superior to them. You just assume that's always the case; although you say you try to be fair and judge everyone based on their individual merits and flaws, the truth is you're very selective about what you take any notice of. So you never really give any of them a chance to prove your assumption false at all. It's a classic case of inverted snobbery."

"Get back in your nut!" Imoen demanded of the Dryad.

"No!" Aerie countermanded. "I agree with her as well... y-you're prejudiced, but you just don't want to admit it."

"B-but... I have been nice to Nalia before!"

"Not really, you haven't. You're polite to her, sometimes, but you've never really tried to see things from her point of view."

"This is all beside the point," Imoen started snapping back, "what do you want with the Egg?"

"I told you... I made a promise not to tell. B-but you wouldn't understand promises, would you, since you've never been able to keep one, have you?"

"I'm not helping you unless you tell me!"

"Hmph... it's funny that I-I always go along with you when we're doing what you want. But the first time I ask you to do something I want... I-I guess Nalia is right. The only person you really want to be happy is you."

Imoen glared at Aerie. Aerie glared back. The Dryad lay back on the couch, helping herself to some biscuits, but she was certainly aware of the tension in the room that had the potential to erupt into a full blown Armageddon at any moment.

"Fine, Aerie," Imoen said at last, sagging and turning herself away, "you win," she conceded.

"Imoen..." The Elf said, not sure how to take it.

"I can't say I like you keeping secrets from me... but, I do want you to be happy. So if it means that much, then, I guess I'll just have to trust you."

"Thank you," the Elf smiled, embracing her friend in a hug.

"So, how are you going to get the Egg then?" Bailey yawned. She had obviously hoped for some fireworks. "Seeing as you both still have your community service to do?"

Aerie thought about it; the Dryad was right. Nalia still wanted the road deal to go through, so she and Imoen had to keep doing what they'd been doing.

"M-maybe we can contact the Shadow Thieves?" The Elf ventured. "W-we've done them plenty of favours before, after all."

"Ask them to get the Egg for us?" Imoen shook her head. "We have some money, but they'd still suck us dry. And you could hardly count on them not to go to a higher bidder."

"We need that Egg," Aerie insisted. There was no telling how long Nalia had; it could be months or years, but it could only be days. The Noble woman was no doubt using her magic to make herself appear stronger than she really was. The fact she kept working so hard though was no doubt accelerating the growth of the corruption taking over her body. "T-the sooner the better."

"All right... just leave it to me," Imoen winked, "you still have Simon's address?"

--

The jail guard whistled a merry tune, keeping a very careful eye on a speck he'd noticed on his boot which suddenly appeared very interesting. He'd have to get them polished... after all, he could afford to now. He kept whistling as he started on his round, giving his suddenly heavy purse a little jig.

Meanwhile, just a couple of streets away, two washer women were getting undressed... or at least were taking off their disguises.

"So, let me get this straight," Vanara, also known as The Black Squirrel, said as she pulled the dress off over her head. "They get us flung in jail for trying to steal the thing, and now they've sprung us out of jail because they want us to steal it again, this time for them?"

"Yup," the boy in the black robes, Simon, said. "That's what they told me... well, actually I was woken up in the middle of the night by an owl flying into the window. And at the same time one of the tutors came in and said this parcel and a letter had been teleported into the school, addressed to me."

"Do I look like an idiot to you?"

"Hmm," the boy squinted, examining her carefully, "yes, actually. Whenever I try to imagine what an idiot looks like, you're exactly what I see."

"So why'd they send some brat?"

"They've got other things they need to do... besides, they might have been recognised if they came here. They said to give you these diamond bracelets, as a sign of good will," Simon handed them over one each. Vanara immediately put on hers, admiring the sparklies.

"Um... I-I don't you should of just..."

"Shut up Ellie," Vanara hissed, "I had just about enough of your whining in prison."

"They also gave detailed instructions on how to tell which one is the real Egg, so obviously they'll know if you try to fob them off with a fake," Simon pulled an envelope out from inside his robes. "Also, here are the instructions telling you where to meet them in a ten days time."

"Ha! As if we'll be going anywhere near them again," Vanara grinned wickedly, "thanks for the jewellery, kid. Be seeing you."

"Oh, yeah," Simon said as they brushed by, "I forgot to mention, you can't take those bracelets off..."

Vanara glared at the boy, then at her wrist as she tugged in vain at the armband... where had the diamonds gone? It was just some bronze arm band! How could she have fallen for an illusion like this?

"Not unless you want to cut off your entire arm, anyway," Simon mused, "anyway, they'll be able to find you wherever you go so long as you have that on. They also said to say; remember the feather."

"The feather!" Ellie gasped as both women's eyes went round with fear. "Oh, please not the feather..."

"Shut up!" Vanara stamped on her foot, and tried to compose herself. "We... we do need some cash, since the guards took just about everything. So, we'll have to take this."

"T-that's a wise decision... y-you don't want her to do those things to you again..."

"I said shut up!" The Black Squirrel screeched, slapping her partner several times.

"Well, I've done what I was asked to," Simon yawned, "up to you now I guess. Good luck... I gotta get back to school."

"I-I didn't actually put on my bracelet," Ellie said when he'd gone. "I... I can still go free!"

But that dream was short lived as Vanara snatched her wrist and snapped the bracelet on for her.


	11. Chapter 11: Imoen vs The Amazons, Part 1

**The Twelve Labours of Imoen**

**~*~**

**Chapter Eleven: Imoen vs The Amazons, Part One**

"So, there's this mysterious ancient temple right out there in the middle of them trees. On top of a big hill in fact..."

"I-I think it's a mound," Aerie said, peering over 'them trees' from another hill top.

"What's the difference?" Imoen asked.

"Well... i-it's artificial, isn't it? There's probably something inside it..."

"Probably. The point I was trying to make is that it's been there hundreds of years, you can see it for miles around, and yet, no one has ever thought to look inside. Not even peep?" The redhead arched an eyebrow incredulously, "Now you can call me Little Miss Paranoia if you like, but I just find that very strange."

"People have tried approaching," the blonde elf explained, rummaging through the notes Ewan had been kind enough to furnish them with before sending them off on this exploration mission. "But... t-there's some kind of barrier around it..."

"Don't see any," Imoen squinted, "looks like a clear path all the way up." But of course, the Avariel's eyesight was far better than hers. "You?"

"Nothing," the elf said, clearly puzzled too. "Hmm... it says the people all ran away, so... m-maybe it's a psychological barrier?"

"Oh, great... one of _those_," Imoen fell sulkily upon a rock, crossing her arms. "I am not happy now, Aerrers. Not happy not all."

"Er, well... i-it might not be that bad," the elf tried half-heartedly to reassure her friend.

"Not _that_ bad? Listen, what you are basically telling me is that as soon as we get near the place all the very worst things from our nightmares will start jumping out on us. There's bound to be a cat; there may even be two cats. Not sure I could handle two... you know how I feel about cats. I was trapped in a room with them once and they started to... nibble... on me..."

"I know," the blonde put a hand on her shoulder, "but... i-it might just be ghosts from the past..."

"Oh, good... another trip down memory lane. No way that could go wrong, could it? It's not like either of us have had any horrific experiences or regrets that can be drudged up," the redhead remarked sarcastically.

"I'm sure it will be fine, if we stay together."

Imoen looked up at her friend, who appeared as a silhouetted figure with the rising sun forming a halo around her body. The only thing she could make out clearly was the elf's outstretched hand beckoning her to get up.

It was funny, really; how Aerie managed to give her confidence and even make her feel a whole lot safer than anyone else ever did. Really if you wanted a bodyguard or some kind of guardian angel, then the little stuttering blonde elf was hardly the first person most would think to run to. You'd want a very strong, independent person like Jaheira. But, maybe the problem with people who were that strong was that they kind of expected other people to be independent and strong too. If you were down on your arse they never offered you a hand; not because they were mean and didn't care, but because they thought you should be able to pick yourself up. Aerie though... she understood that people could be weak and so she always offered them a hand. It wasn't like Aerie didn't need a boost every so often as well; in fact, quite often.

"We'll just hold each other's hand, huh?" Imoen said, taking Aerie's hand with confident smile and letting herself be pulled up.

"T-that's what best friends do, yes?"

"Best friends?" The redhead quizzed; they hadn't really made up yet. "Does this mean you're apologising for being so mean the other night?"

"N-no... I still think you deserved it," the elf said, demurely looking away and closing her eyes. "It just means that... I-I hope we still can be."

"I suppose another thing that 'best friends' do is point out when the other one has been a complete dunderhead, yes?"

"Well... people have got to be honest for any kind of relationship to work, I-I think..."

"In that case," Imoen started leaning forward so that her lips were close to Aerie's ear, then she whispered, "you're standing in bear pooh."

The elf snapped her eyes open. She lifted her foot and sighed as she gazed on the brown muck now pretty much caked all over her sole. Obviously, Imoen was finding it very hard to hold on to her sides.

"Come on silly," the redhead giggled, taking both Aerie's hands and stepping backwards as if leading her into a dance. "Let's wipe it off in that pond and then we'll head up."

--

A short while and a really good scrubbing later, the two were surrounded by trees. Trees by themselves were not particularly disturbing. But, if you added a little mist a few wolf whistles and hooting owls (even though it was daylight), then what you had was an almost alien landscape that was suggestive of some ancient mystic power. Which, for some completely odd reason, had chosen to manifest itself in the form of kittens. Not just one kitten, or two, but lots and lots of kittens all sitting around in the trees and on the ground licking their paws.

"Meow?" They all started saying as the two adventurers approached.

"Imoen?" Aerie asked concernedly as her friends head started rolling back. "D-don't faint!" The elf was able to hook her arms under the human's just in time to stop her from falling.

"Ohhh... I-I can't take this, Aerie. This is too much... I'm going back," Imoen started scrambling to get away, but the elf had established a good enough grip around her to hold on.

"No, listen... _listen!_" The blonde pleaded, the insistence in her voice seeming to get through. "Look... a-all we have to do is get to that temple and see what's inside."

"No one's ever seen what's inside," Imoen answered, quickly formulating her own plan. "We can just make up some story about a tribe of goblins worshipping a huge pink elephant named Trevor; it's not like Lord Windbreaker will ever get off the King-size cushions he calls his buttocks to check. Then we can spend the rest of the day doing shadow puppets. You know I'm good at those."

"You know Ewan is checking our progress."

"I hate cats!"

"The cats aren't real! Look... j-just close your eyes and I'll guide you through them."

Imoen closed her eyes and started taking deep breaths... convincing Aerie to turn back at this first hurdle would be near impossible. That damn fool Quayle had gone and nurtured her spirit of exploration and adventure and so there'd been a sparkle in her big blue eyes that morning when she'd been told she'd have the chance to rediscover some lost ancient secret, or just learn more about how people once lived and... died. It was hard to imagine anything worse than cats, but no doubt the barrier would present Aerie her own nightmares as she progressed. Imoen could hardly leave the air headed twit to face those nightmares alone.

"Fine," she said, breaking out of the elf's grasp. "I'm going to close my eyes. You just make sure you don't let go of my hand... or I'll stick your head down a badger hole."

"Er... just, try to think happy thoughts," Aerie said, making very sure not to let go.

"I'm thinking happy thoughts, Aerie... I'm thinking about owning a pack of Rottweilers."

Imagining lots of screaming and flying fur, Imoen was, with Aerie's help, able to make it through the first obstacle. The next obstacle, however, was one none of them had been prepared for...

"Children," a female voice said, dripping with disdain. Imoen still had her eyes closed, but it obviously wasn't Aerie. "Obstinate, insolent, nettlesome nuisances... both of you!" The redhead opened her eyes and saw... yup, Jaheira. Standing tall and proud, arms crossed in front of her, long tawny hair blowing back. Her face, strong but still beautiful, looked annoyed. Which, if Jaheira really were here, would have been cause for great concern.

"I thought you were going to try and scare us away," Imoen said with a nonchalant shrug, "so... why'd you just list all our good points?"

"Let's just keep going," Aerie said, still leading Imoen by the hand. But the fake-Jaheira instantly moved to block the blonde.

"Do you think this recklessness impresses me, girl?" The faux-druid said, glaring straight at the elf. "You think you will prove yourself to me by charging blindly into a situation about which you know nothing?"

"I've already proven myself to everyone," Aerie said, starting to shuffle furtively and hiding her eyes; it may not have been the real Jaheira, but she could still turn anyone into unset clay with her stare. "Even Jaheira... b-before she left for the north she said I was 'not bad'... one of my happiest ever moments..."

"You think just because even I am capable of being nice occasionally that you have actually earned my approval?" Jaheira spat, getting even closer so that the elf could feel the disapproval in her breath. "You know it matters not how hard you keep trying; you will just never be strong like me. You will never be as fast as the other brat there. You have no stamina, no real skill to speak of... you will just never match up, child."

Aerie's whole body was quivering and she started to clench her tiny fists. It was too early to tell whether she was going to get very angry, start to cry, or both. The illusion had done a pretty good job identifying the things she was most insecure about; all it needed to do now was mock her stuttering. With Jaheira and Aerie it had always been like 'strict authoritarian mother figure' and 'teenage daughter trying to find her own place in the world'. But the daughter still had some love and admiration for the mother, and vice versa. Imoen had been able to avoid most of that with Jae; probably because the druid had enough sense to have given up on her very early on. And possibly because Jaheira had been a much more laid back person when they'd met... well, slightly more laid back.

Anyway, Imoen saw that the problem here wasn't Jaheira, but Aerie's own self-deprecating nature; her own tendency to focus more on the negative things about herself than on anything positive.

"Cleaning up after animals and sewing clown costumes is all you are really good for," the illusion went on spitefully, "you may as well just run back to the circus, where you belong."

"Well, if she'd done that early on," Imoen decided to intervene; after all they couldn't stand around listening to the harper harp on all day. "Then, Kangaxx would still be around and you, or the real Jaheira I mean, would still be running around some place thinking she was Jenny the Jumping Jelly. It was Aerie who saved everyone then and who defeated the demi-lich on her own."

"Hmph... are you saying that no one else could have done that?"

"It doesn't matter who else could have; what matters is that she did. And didn't lose her mind and run away... like some blue blooded druids I know."

"Foolhardiness is hardly a virtue..."

"Aerie jumps at her own shadow; I'd hardly say she was foolhardy. What she is though is very brave. Smart too... I mean I can remember things, almost everything that I bother to read, and I'm good at numbers. Aerie's pretty good at that stuff too, but she's got something else... wisdom or intuition or something. Something that elevates her from just being a walking abacus or encyclopaedia into being, well... clever. She's good at figuring stuff out; like she's figured out the Philosophers Egg and that's baffled experts for years (still hasn't told me why though, but I'll probably just beat it out of her eventually..)"

"Well... I-I that have a little bit of help with that," Aerie said, still looking down but her body was now calm.

"Modest as well... far too modest. Actually that's a failing of hers, but... not a bad one, really."

"I-it's all right Imoen... I get it. You're trying to assure me that I'm not terrible at everything."

"I'm telling you there are lots of things you're really good at... maybe even better than me at some stuff. And I don't like admitting that, so you'd better be pepped up and ready to push this illusion aside now or it really will be the badger set for you."

"You know the only reason she keeps you around is because she likes having someone nearby actually more pathetic than her," the false-Jaheira scoffed.

"No," Aerie stood up straight, "the real Jaheira is someone I respect, and I-I hope someday will respect me too. But you're just the voice of my paranoia... I've listened to you too much already."

"What?" The illusion became flustered and very angry as the two kept walking; being an illusion it could do nothing physically to stop them and, thanks to Imoen, the assault on Aerie's insecurities had failed. "How dare you! You can't ignore me...!"

"Did she just use a contraction?" Imoen asked Aerie, who merely shrugged since she hadn't been listening.

"What? What contraction? I..."

And then the false-Jaheira exploded and vanished in a puff of out-of-characterness.

--

"Not been too bad so far," Imoen said, stretching out her back as she strolled, "if this is the best the barrier can throw at us then we'll have no worries..."

"Do... d-do you hear that?" You could see Aerie's ears rising on her head as she picked up the sound; and whatever it was, it clearly disturbed her. Imoen soon picked up it too.

"It's... moaning? Where's it coming from?"

"There..." Aerie nodded, gulping at the sight of all the cages then tightening her grip on Imoen's hand as they edged onwards. There were people inside all of them, of all races; Human, Elf, Halfling even some Dwarves. The slave trade on Faerun was very much an equal opportunities venture – for this surely had to be one of Aerie's memories.

Most of them were just sat upon the ground covered in their own faeces staring blankly into space, like they'd given up all hope of life and freedom. Some were crying, moaning piteously, a few shouting... Imoen jumped back as a dirty human man seemed to try to grab her, spluttering some angry sounding words at her...

"I don't understand what he's saying," Imoen said, turning sadly away. The man, of course, was not real... at least not any more.

"It's my memory," the elf explained as a tear rolled down her cheek, "I-I didn't understand them either..."

Of course, Aerie hadn't spoken common when she was captured. To have felt so isolated and alone in the midst of all this. No one able to explain what was happening to her and why...

"It... must have been terrible," Imoen tried to close her eyes, "I hate to think of you in a place like this..."

"I-it's not a memory I really want to have either... but I... I-I can't erase it. Believe me, I've..." Aerie froze. Imoen watched as the skin of her friends eye lids peeled back while simultaneously all the colour drained from her skin; for a moment Aerie became like a grotesque caricature of herself. Then she gasped and fell to her knees. "N-no... no..." she started to cry.

In the cage in front of them was a girl with brown hair, twelve or thirteen years of age – about the equivalent of the age Aerie would have been when she was brought here. And the girl was lying, as Imoen had noticed some of the others were, very still. With blue lips and pallid sunken skin. The redhead couldn't really stop herself crying either; it wasn't like she'd never seen a corpse before, but when it was someone so young... but, one of them had to remember that none of this was really happening. At least not here and now...

"Was she someone you knew?" The redhead put a hand on Aerie's back.

"I... I didn't know her name. O-or where she came from or really anything about her," the elf sobbed, "but she was in the cage next to mine a-and we sometimes shared our meals... she was kind. But then... s-she got sick. Lots of them got sick a-and no one helped them. She... she wasn't strong enough. Even after she... t-they just left her there... like she didn't matter..."

"Not your fault..."

"But it _is_ my fault that I forgot!" Aerie snapped back with unexpected rage. "T-that I made myself forget... she..." the elf lowered her head in shame of herself, "she deserved better. They all did."

"I'm sorry kid."

"Not your fault," the elf tried to hide her quivering lower lip with a smile.

Imoen was beginning to wonder if it was at all sensible to carry on; they really had no idea where they were going anyway. But, she wasn't allowed much time to think about it.

"What are you doing out?!" A voice clearly experienced at shouting came at them. A huge muscular man dressed like an executioner stomped towards the pair carrying the club about the size of Imoen. He must have been nine or ten feet tall; no doubt another distortion due to Aerie's memory of whoever the hell it was.

"Come on," Imoen took the elf's hand and started to run with her. She was quite sure the illusions couldn't really hurt them, but at least if they ran they'd be out of here faster. It was just like one of those nightmares though; no matter how hard they tried to move their legs they seemed to cover barely any distance at all, with the executioner getting closer all the time. But he couldn't hurt them; if anything he was helping. Rather than chasing them away he was chasing them towards the temple. Maybe the barrier had another treat in store... ah.

Imoen instinctively fell to the ground, pushing Aerie down with her, just as an illusionary lightning bolt bolted over their heads, struck the illusionary giant who then exploded into a thousand illusionary pieces.

"Heh," the redhead spat out the leaves that had gotten into her mouth, "I was wondering when I'd see you."

"Ah... the child of Bhaal," there was that horrible, grating noise of creaking leather. "So it is you. I take it that I was expected?"

"You betcha," the redhead stood up, facing, arms crossed both defiantly and defensively, the expressionless mask that was the face of Jon Irenicus. "Just wouldn't be a proper attempt to break down my mental defences without you. So, whatcha got? More knives? You gonna cut up some people I know, or... oh no, wait... y-you're not going to sing at me are you? That would be hell... actually, I think I'll just leave. See'ya around, deadite."

"Thinking... that has never been one of your strong suites has it?" Irenicus posed, examining his fingernails. "You go through life 'living in the moment', like some barely sentient animal. When it's hungry, it eats. When it thirsts, it drinks... but it never plans for any of these things. Never considers the wider implications of its actions."

"Yeah, well, despite all your best laid plans, I'm here and you're... what was it? Oh, that's right... dead! Chalk another one up to me I think..."

"See this face? It looks like a mask to you... but, this is my face. Aged, cold, and unsympathetic. I never tried to hide what I was, child of Bhaal."

"I know who I am. I'm Imoen. And if you don't mind, I have a task to do, so..."

"In that case, I am sure you wouldn't mind me telling your friend about what really happens when you wake up in the middle of the night and you hear the taint whispering to you."

"Come on, Aerie," Imoen pulled her friends hand, really in a hurry now.

"H-he's not talking about that pink almanac thing, is he?" The elf asked innocently.

"What?! What do you know about that?" The redhead was really taken back and surprised; she thought she'd kept it a secret.

"Well... h-have you seen my ears? You don't really think I never hear you scurrying across the floorboards in the early hours, do you?"

"But... you looked at it!" Red faced Imoen was suddenly full of righteous indignation. "That's my own private secret... how dare you!"

"Oh, yes... w-who would ever invade people's privacy like that? I was just curious."

"What did you make of it, Avariel?" Irenicus was unfortunately still around.

"Well... n-nothing, really. I just thought," Aerie turned back to Imoen, "I-I thought that being in Nalia's home and seeing the kind of life she's had... i-it was making you jealous."

"I was," the redhead admitted, "I... started wondering about the things I might have missed out on growing up in Candlekeep. But, it was just a phase... I'm pretty much over it now."

"It was more than that," Irenicus scoffed, "she actually thought she could fight it if she started to indulge herself in 'nice' things. The one time you actually have a thought, child of Bhaal, and it turns out to be abysmal."

"Fight what?" Aerie asked, although she hardly really needed to.

"The taint, of course. Her instinct. Because, when she awakes in the middle of the night, she looks at you. Oh, not in a lustful way of course. But she looks at the steady rhythm of your breath, sees all the life in you and then she thinks... she thinks about how easy it would be to extinguish that life. About the power she has in that moment, the power for her and her alone to decide the life or death of another... the power of a God."

"Aerie," Imoen started shaking her head, unable to stop the tears. "Y-you know I'd never hurt you, right?"

"But you will... you cannot help it. You are no different from the other spawn. Death and destruction follow in your wake. And those voices you hear whispering to you are getting louder and closer all the time. Your head hurts, doesn't it? Like its pounding against your skull trying to get out. If you really cared about your friends you would get them as far away from you as possible."

She should... Imoen knew that she should. But, she was a coward. She wanted to live and she couldn't do that on her own... she couldn't face things. She should stop thinking about herself but she was too scared...

"The... the barrier is trying to split us up, make us more vulnerable," Aerie said, not letting go of Imoen's hand. "Imoen... e-even if what he says is true, you know I won't leave. Whatever you face I will try my best to help you fight it... I still believe that you can."

"Such a bufflehead," the redhead, "but thanks. You've always been my favourite person."

"Hm... very well," Irenicus said, raising a gloved fist which started to crackle with electricity, "if you two will not be deterred, then I am afraid I will have to kill you."

Aerie pulled Imoen as another lightning bolt flew by, singing the air and a tree. The pair started to run again.

"Wait," Imoen said, taking cover with her friend behind a fallen log, "he can't really hurt us, can he?"

"I don't know," Aerie said, shaking her head. "H-he is, or he was, a sorcerer... a creature of magic."

"So?"

"Well... w-what do you think sustains this barrier? It's got to be magic or some kind of energy."

"Good point," and Imoen thought that another good point was that even if they could hit back, which was questionable, there was nothing to stop him from just returning again and again. "This is dumb; we don't know what's there. And whatever it is, it's probably not worth all this."

"Someone went to a lot of trouble to keep people away from whatever's there."

"Yeah... that does kind of make me curious too..."

"Be a shame to leave questions unanswered, I think."

"I suppose it can't be much further... all right, let's just run for it."

And so they did; they exploded out of their hiding place and starting zigzagging through the remaining trees, trying to avoid Irenicus' bolts. They lost track of how much distance they had covered. Then another tree exploded nearby, throwing them through the air and showering them with splinters. And then it was quiet, until Imoen started coughing.

"Ugh... it seems like he's stopped following us," she said spitting and rubbing out the dirt that had gotten into her eyes. When she could see again, she looked up and saw two shins covered by greaves. She followed the legs up, and saw bare, quite muscular thighs, a short leather skirt, leather cuirass with two distinct bulges and then an open faced helmet over the head of someone who seemed quite bemused. The whole outfit was black with silver decals.

"Heh... that's good. That's really good... really nice dress," the redhead laughed a bit manically as she lifted herself up. "I've really had just about enough but, go on then... which part of which one of our psyches are you supposed to be?" It was only once Imoen was on her feet that she noticed there were other women, all wearing the same uniform, encircling them. "Oh... there's lots of you now. Great, we can have a party."

It was Aerie, sitting up, who noticed their feet. She saw one of them step a little to the side and most tellingly, she saw the impression her boots had left upon the ground.

"Er... Imoen. I-I don't think that they're..." the elf tried, but the redhead had been driven too far to listen.

"I know!" Imoen skipped right up to the first one she'd seen, poking her in the shoulder. "You're the Jumping Jennies! Eh... how about it? You gonna jump for us, big... girl," Imoen was still poking the woman, it taking a few seconds to sink in that the person was solid. Very solid. And as it did the manic smile faded... what had Aerie been trying to say? She really should try to listen. The woman now looked quite annoyed. "I, er... I guess from your point of view it must look like I'm really asking for it?" The woman nodded, slowly, as she clenched and drew back her fist. "Guess I can't really blame you..."

Aerie jumped and winced as Imoen came flying back, landing spread eagled just next to her. Naturally she went to see if her friend was all right; it looked like the redhead had been hit hard right on the chin, knocking her out cold. There were times Aerie wished for something like this to happen more often... but in the current circumstances... the women were closing in. A couple had started drawing their swords.

The elf immediately sprung into action, but she got another shock. She tried to take out her staff from her belt but it wouldn't extend... it was just a useless tiny stick. Even so, she steadied herself and did her best to stand between the supine Imoen and her attackers, even though they were completely surrounded.

"Wait!" One of the women ordered, stepping through the others who immediately lowered their weapons. This one was quite obviously the leader; her helmet was more decorated than the others, with a plume of long black feathers reaching down her back. She looked Aerie and down and smiled in a way that wasn't friendly. "Leave this girl to me."

--

Imoen was starting to come around. Starting to... everything was still all blurry. But she was definitely slowly edging her way back towards consciousness. She was starting to hear things too... flesh smacking against flesh, a lot of grunting; sounded like Aerie had gotten into a spot of bother again.

Well, it was a good outlet for her really. Girl had a lot of pain and anger inside her. She kept it buried, but... well, sometimes you just had to let some of it go. Keeping it inside all the time only led to a lot of stress and anxiety. Yeah, it might cause her a bit of pain now, but at least she'd be less likely to have a heart attack when she's older. Besides, the ground was surprisingly comfortable.

Imoen yawned and went back to sleep.

--

Aerie was far less comfortable. It was like fighting Illasera again, only worse. This woman, whoever she was, didn't even have the decency to cheat. She was able to avoid, block and counter all Aerie's efforts simply on virtue of being a vastly better fighter. And then there were all the other people watching the elf get humiliated.

Aerie felt her body being thrown, again, and then bending like a horse shoe as she hit the trunk. The pain... it hurt so much... it took several long seconds to get herself back up and turned around to face her opponent. The woman allowed her a chance to recover; another sadist drawing things out far longer than she needed to. Unfortunately even when Aerie was up, using the tree for support, she realised she couldn't move away from it without falling flat on her face again.

"Do you yield?" The woman asked; Aerie wasn't listening. She was instead wondering just how she could be losing this badly. She wasn't weak... she knew she wasn't weak. She knew she was far more agile than most people, and she was sure she had more skill than most people as well. She should at least be able to put up some sort of fight.

"Wh-w-what?" The elf panted after the woman had asked her a question again.

"Do-you-yield?" She said loudly and more slowly.

No... she couldn't do that. True, she had given up on winning, even by luck. So she'd focused on just putting up a good fight... that had started to seem unrealistic too, so now she just wanted to hit the woman at least once. That would prove she wasn't completely hopeless. Besides which, there was Imoen... the only real chance Aerie had of saving her was for the redhead to recover on her own and get herself away while all these women were focused on her. So no... absolutely no giving up.

She pushed herself away from the tree and, although wobbly, stood up and made it clear what her intention was.

"I see," the woman shrugged, understanding. Then she threw up her hands, utterly exasperated. "Well, in that case... I yield."

"What?" Some of her followers gasped.

"Er... w-what?" Aerie furrowed her brow in confusion.

"You all heard me... I just can't defeat this one. So I yield."

"But... I-I haven't even landed a hit on you...?"

"But, it seems that all I can do with you is kill you. And I have no interest in that," the leader turned around to her troops and started giving orders. "See that the new arrivals are given food and water."

Aerie wasn't sure how to take it. She still wanted to hit the woman, but on the other hand... she was in agony. She collapsed in a heap and curled up.

"What's your name, elfling?" Aerie winced and looked up at one of the women, the biggest of all of them with her hands on her hips glaring down.

"A... Aerie," the elf said so that the woman was just able to hear.

"Ha! I like you A-Aerie," the woman laughed, offering a hand, "you have the heart of a warrior. Unfortunately, you also have the body of a mouse infested old scarecrow. But at least that's something we can work on..."

"Believe me, I've tried... ohh," Air was pushed through Aerie's lungs as the woman lifted her clean on off the ground with one hand. But she was good enough to place her back down on her feet again right away. "L-lots of people have tried... I just don't get stronger."

"Do not worry. Surely no one knows better how to whip a girl into shape than we Amazons."

"Oh... um, w-will there definitely have to be whipping?"

"Whatever we find is right for you."

"Oh, well... t-that's nice, I guess. Thank you."

"Excellent!" The Amazon beamed, slamming her hands on the elf's shoulders causing Aerie's eyes to spin. "Then I will speak to you again later."

"Great," the blonde squeeked and smiled, although she was already doubtful.

"Well done Aerie," Imoen approached as the Amazon moved away. The redhead had recovered in time to see the end of the fight. "Looks like once again you've somehow... triumphed. Just through sheer pig-headed-unwillingness-to-ever-give-in-despite-the-facts," Aerie got the impression that her friend wasn't entirely happy for some reason.

"I-I guess I just got... lucky?"

"Yes! By Ao, I think you've certainly hit the nail on the head with that particular observation. Yup... you sure were lucky," Imoen definitely wasn't happy. She grabbed a bunch of Aerie's hair and pushed their foreheads together, staring angrily. "The only reason you're still breathing is that these 'warriors' have some totally misguided respect for loyalty, courage and honour. If they'd been anyone else, you'd be... what are you smiling about?"

"I-it's just... your Jaheira impression is really getting better..."

"Well, I'm always working on it but... this is me trying to be serious," Imoen allowed herself a small smile. "Just... don't always be so brave, okay? Oh, who am I kidding... of course you'll be brave. Just try not to be so stupid," the redhead started gently headbutting her blonde friend, "I'm-getting-sick-and-tired-of-tell-ing-you!"

"Owww... I'm... I'm sorry," Aerie sighed sadly, rubbing down the bump. Imoen was right... she should have just yielded. She had of course heard the same speech from Jaheira too. Once again all that had mattered to her was proving herself... getting herself killed for such a stupid reason would have been no help to Imoen. And what about Nalia? How was she going to be of any help to her from the land of the not-breathing? "I-I didn't think... I'm sorry."

"Well... I guess I'm not always the best example of frugality," the redhead grinned and winked. "Anyway... why didn't you just zap them?"

"H-haven't you noticed yet?"

"Noticed what?"

"Look at your dagger," Imoen did so. The runes were dull; no magic in them. It was just a nicely decorated piece of metal.

"Hmm... all this not being able to use magic is really getting me down. I swear, soon as we're out of here I'm going to find someone I don't like and turn them into a cow-pat."

"But, w-while we are here, we can only use our own skills..."

"Pooh... well then, I guess we had better stick with the mini-skirt mob for now."

"Oh... p-please try not to antagonise them too much..."

"Course not, Aerie. Best behaviour... I promise..."

--

The Amazons, as they were calling themselves, had set up a camp a small distance away. There were thirteen that Imoen had identified, most sat around doing various chores. One was cooking, others were polishing shields or sharpening their swords or their spears; it seemed like they were getting ready for a possible battle.

"Ohh... are you eating badger?" Imoen said, helping herself to a seat around the campfire where the leader was already sat. Her poor manners didn't impress much. "I love Badger. C'mon Aerie... hurry up and sit down."

"Um... m-may I?" The elf asked a whole lot more politely. The leader approved with a nod. Imoen found it hard not to smirk; Aerie was never really in on the game, of course. She could always be relied on to just be her usual nice, polite self.

"I've seen armour like yours in the Adventurers Mart," the redhead said, tucking in. "You guys from Chessenta?"

"Never heard of it," the leader said, removing her helm and letting loose her long dark hair. She was really a lot like Jaheira in looks; lighter skin, darker hair, bluer eyes and rounder ears, but she had those same strong yet still very beautiful characteristics. You had to wonder who would win a fight.

"So who are you then?"

"We are the Amazons, of course."

"Don't tell us you've never heard of the Amazons?" A younger one, probably younger than Imoen with freckles and curly copper hair, said.

"Well, yeah... I've heard of Amazons," Imoen shrugged, "had run ins with plenty of all-girl bands before."

"We're not a band! We're 'the' Amazons... that's 'the', used adjectively."

"'The' Amazons?" Now that she thought about it, Imoen did seem to recall reading several myths about the original Amazons in Candlekeep's Great Library. "But... aren't you supposed to cut off your right breasts or something?"

"Eww... no. Why on earth would we do that?"

"It's supposed to make it easier to draw back a bow or something... not that I've ever experienced much difficulty there to be honest."

"Clearly not, but... we have crossbows now anyway. You've got to move with the times, you know."

"I am Queen Penthesilea, The Fifth," the leader announced. It didn't seem that impressive around a campfire in the woods; maybe if she'd had a throne and some trumpeters.

"Right," the redhead had forgotten that she'd forgotten to introduce herself. "I'm Imoen, the one and only. And Aerie you've already gotten to know quite well."

"My fists have," Penthesilea grinned as Aerie's tried to pull her head into her shell. "The youngest amongst us here is Stasia, our scholar. If you have any questions about us she will be more than happy to answer them."

"Why do you need a scholar? I thought you were all warriors?"

"I am a warrior," Stasia said, clearly vexed by Imoen's implication. "But... I also read and study the ancient scrolls. Don't think that makes me a librarian though... I could still take either of you with my eyes closed."

"Stasia is an invaluable member of this expedition. We intend to go up there, you see," Penthesilea pointed up at the temple on top of the mound. "Who knows what we will find... monsters, no doubt. But there could be ancient writings, puzzles, traps, devices the likes of which we have never seen; we need to have someone among us who can make sense of them."

"Oh, that's coincidence," Imoen beamed, "that's where we're going as well."

"Correction; that is where you were going. Just because I have decided not to kill you, yet, I haven't said you can join us. Aerie is invited to do so, but you... you have really done nothing to impress me."

"Well... I-I'm honoured to be invited, y-your majesty," Aerie stammered. Obviously she'd been completely unaware she'd been battling royalty and wasn't sure if 'majesty' was the proper form of address. "But... Imoen is my best friend; I can't join you if she can't."

"Hm," the Queen's lips curled up slightly, "I suppose Imoen must have some redeeming quality to inspire such... unfathomable loyalty. Very well; she may join us. But first, we drink. Nara! Where are you?"

"You still haven't told us how you all got here," Imoen stretched.

"Same way you did I expect," Stasia explained, "through the barrier, but from a different world."

"Y-you mean," Aerie leant forward, her eyes getting some of their sparkle back, "the temple is... is quantum? Existing simultaneously in many different places at once?"

"Quantum?" Imoen arched an eyebrow. "What's that?"

"Something Quayle talked about a few times. H-he claimed it was one of his theories... although, h-he also claimed he'd invented rice pudding."

"Oh... boring gnome stuff," Imoen waved dismissively.

"It's not just different places in one material plane," Stasia went on excitedly; clearly thrilled to have met someone who was into this garbage. "It seems to exist across different realities as well."

"That's amazing!" Aerie gasped.

"Isn't it though?" Stasia clasped her hands together.

"Yeah... whatever," Imoen just had a thought, "Hate to butt in on the fun you're having, but... when we go back through the barrier, how do we know we'll go back to the worlds we came from? Maybe that's why no-one's reported back on what's inside the place..."

"Yes... h-hopefully our resonances will put us back we came from," Aerie muttered pensively.

"It will," Stasia nodded, "some of us have already gone back and returned. You've nothing to worry about."

"Oh, hey, I wasn't worried. Not for a second," Imoen stretched again, totally non-chalantly. "I knew all about quantum and resonances and stuff... I was just checking to see if you two did as well."

"Ah!" Penthesilea stood up, "finally our drinks have arrived!"

"Oh," Stasia's green eyes widened slightly as the Queen, Imoen and Aerie were each handed chalices containing a red liquid. "But... but that's..."

"A special brew we Amazons always take before going into battle," Penthesilea raised her cup. "Isn't that right, Stasia, dear?"

"Er... yes. Of course... I-I just thought it strange. I mean... we never usually share it with outsiders."

"But I am Queen," Penthsilea grinned. "And I have decided to make an exception."

"Yes, your majesty," The copped haired girl gulped and shut up.

"Doesn't smell very good," Imoen sniffed at it, "definitely not wine. What is it?"

"I-I asked you not to antagonise them," Aerie whispered.

"And I haven't, have I?" Imoen whispered back. "But what if it's poisoned?"

"They're honourable warriors, right? W-why would they do that? If they wanted us dead... well, it's not like they haven't had chances."

"I guess you're right, but... this really smells disgusting..."

"Please... drink," the Queen made a toast-like gesture, then pressed her own chalice against her own ruby red lips.

"Well... here it goes then," Imoen decided to just gulp it down fast, as did the elf. "Gawds... it tastes disgusting too," so disgusting she couldn't even vomit; she couldn't risk tasting it on the way up as well.

"It's an acquired taste," Penthesilea said, her lips curled up again. "But you will find that its effects are most vivifying."

"Very funny... your majesty," Stasia muttered unhappily to herself.

"Huh? Why's she sulking over there?" Imoen nudged Aerie, gesturing at the copper haired Amazon.

"It goes against tradition, I-I guess," the elf shrugged.

"Now," Penthesilea drew her sword, as two other Amazons attached her cloak and placed her helm carefully upon her head. "We will either return to our homes triumphant, or not at all. Onwards, Amazons! Either glory and honour or death await!"

This, of course, got the customary cheers and shouts from the other warriors, who started drawing their own swords and beating their shields... all except three.

"Um," Imoen raised a hand sheepishly, "is it all right if I just follow behind?"


	12. Chapter 12: Imoen vs The Amazons, Part 2

This is the longest chapter of this saga, even though I split it into two parts. Hopefully you won't hold the length against it though, as lots of exciting things happen. It's about Amazons so there are catfights... although, actually just fights, like the fight in part one. Not wrestling or anything pretty really, but hey, if that is your thing anyway then you are welcome. If not, then theres a three headed dog, a few explosions and lots of fire.

**The Twelve Labours of Imoen**

**~*~**

**Chapter Twelve: Imoen vs The Amazons, Part Two**

The 'mound', as Aerie insisted on calling it, was much bigger than it had looked from a distance. Most things were of course; cows weren't really the size of a fingernail, although Imoen still found it fun to sometimes imagine being a giant and plucking them out of fields... But anyway, from the hill top they were on earlier the adventurers had gotten the perspective all wrong and this thing was huge, probably about halfway between a hill and a mountain. An overgrown path wound its way to the top.

Imoen was no ranger or druid, but as they ascended she saw definite signs that other people had passed this way before and that it hadn't been centuries. Trampled weeds, broken branches... they definitely weren't the first to make it through. So why had no one made it back? Probably because anyone who made it did what she and The Amazons were doing... going up to the temple and looking inside.

Imoen wasn't sure if she trusted The Amazons either; maybe she had been adventuring too long and was seeing enemies everywhere, but something didn't seem right about them... especially Queen Sil or whatever her name was. But, as she and Aerie were impotent here, there was no denying a dozen or so fierce warrior women, each of them probably the equal of Jaheira or even Minsc in a fight, could come in very handy.

"Are there men on your world?" Stasia asked all of a sudden, making conversation as they walked. She and three others seemed to have volunteered to guard the gate crashers. There was the big one who had threatened to train Aerie whose name was Antibrote, so Anti for short, another with long curly black hair called Nefti who appeared not to say much and a blonde named Clonie, or 'Clo' to her friends. No one had ever called her Clo.

"Uh-huh... millions of them," Imoen stretched out with arms behind her head. What kind of beast was it going to be? Dragon? Ogre? Blob? No indicators as of yet.

"What are they like?"

"Hmmm... if I could use one word to describe them all I guess it would be... silly," this seemed to cast doubt on Stasia's expectations.

"It... must be hard living with them though. Our ancient texts described the darkness that resided in the hearts of all men," the young Amazon explained, "it made them vulnerable to corruption, greed, lust for power..."

"Men and women, boys and girls... everyone is different, right? Or, I mean everyone is the same in that everyone is unique and special. That doesn't make any sense at all, does it? Or does it? Maybe it not making sense means it's profound... or maybe I should start again. I'm saying some men are complete buffleheads but some are really okay, and it's not like we girls are perfect little angels all the time, right?"

"No... indeed not," Stasia hung her head. Imoen would have asked her what was wrong, but Clonie decided to butt in.

"Men are better at shopping though," Imoen ploughed on, regardless, "I'll give 'em that. They decide what they want before going, then don't get distracted by all the other items on display. Just a smooth operation in and out... job done. That's men for ya."

"Have you ever been with a man?" The blonde Amazon asked, her face probably stiff from the fact that it was grinning all the time.

"Wh-huh?" Imoen flushed red; this was a very personal thing to be asked all of a sudden. "That's... why should I tell you?"

"So you haven't, then?"

"So what if I have or I haven't? My life, my choice, right? Nothing whatsoever to do with you," hopefully, Imoen thought, she'd done a good enough job of avoiding the question.

"What about you, Aerie?"

"Oh... I-I was a child when I was captured by slavers and they just stuck me in cage," the elf explained, "and w-when I was finally let out I was just busy working all the time. I-it's not that I've never been attracted to anyone... there was this clown I knew liked me, a-and he was sweet, but... well, no. I've never been with a man."

"It's okay," Stasia said, bristling with confidence all of a sudden. Clearly she was relieved to finally be able to talk frankly about these matters. "I've never been with a woman."

"Heh... but that's not by choice, is it Stas?" Clonie laughed. "No Amazon wants a clumsy, freckle-faced, bookworm for a partner." Stasia said nothing back, just hung her head sulkily again. Aerie, typically, saw someone who looked to be in some kind of pain and immediately intervened to help.

"Um... I-I'm interested in learning more about the history of your people," the elf said and she probably genuinely was. In any case, Stasia immediately started to perk up again.

"Oh, well... where to begin?" You could actually see the copper haired Amazon staring back into history. "It all started with a small tribe of warrior women banding together in a place called Maeotis to escape the evils of man's world. As word spread they started coming from far and wide and soon there was a whole nation made up entirely of women. They moved and made themselves a capital city, Themiscyra. Beautiful place, by all accounts; white marble, hanging gardens, waterfalls," the young Amazon sighed dreamily.

"But no fellas," Imoen interrupted, "how'd your nation survive?"

"Well, in those days it was necessary to keep some men alive as slaves."

"Slaves?!" Aerie gasped. Having mentioned her enslavement earlier, Stasia caught on quickly that this was something the elf was emphatically not in favour of.

"Oh, that was a long time ago on a different world," the Amazon gestured downwards as if hoping that would calm everything down. "It's not a practice we condone now. But besides, it's not as if the slaves were ever treated badly. According to our written accounts lots of men volunteered for it."

"That certainly has a ring of truth to it," Imoen smirked.

"Um... you said it was a different world?" Aerie asked, sufficiently placated. "Do you mean not the world you live in now?"

"Yes," Stasia nodded sadly, "on Gaia the empires of man grew and grew and we Amazons found ourselves increasingly fenced in. Men would not accept women as their equals, and since we were outnumbered and surrounded we had two choices; stay and be forced to surrender the freedom we had long fought for, or flee to another world. So our priestesses prayed to Artemis, our Goddess, and bade her to open a doorway to a new world; she did and so most of us left for our new homeland... a whole world completely untouched by man or any other race. Some stayed behind, of course, but I doubt they would have stood much chance. We called the new world Themis, after the Goddess of divine order, and set about creating a new society unsullied by wickedness of men," the Amazonian scholar recited perfectly.

"You taking notes, Aerrers?" Imoen stretched again; she was doing that a lot. She was finding it helped her think better, as well as keeping her awake. "Might be a story in it for ya; 'That Witch Which Favoured Using Low Blows A Lot'."

"We are warriors!" Anti, the big one, protested immediately. "We fight with honour no matter what gender the opponent is."

"Hmph... that's all right for you, she hulk. Me? I'll take any advantage I can get."

"Don't antagonise them," Aerie hissed a warning under her breath, "I-if they get mad then I'm just going to leave you this time..."

"What? I'm just saying, how often is a battle won by the side that fights fair?"

"There are methods even you and Aerie could learn," The big woman shrugged, "so that you can fight even the strongest foes and emerge victorious, without resorting to... cheating."

"I already have a method, butch, and it's worked pretty well until now."

"I-I'm sorry!" Aerie spun about to face the big Amazon, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "She... she just chatters all the time and doesn't think about what comes out. S-she's really quite sweet once you get to know her... er, sometimes.,, maybe..." the Avariel said, repeatedly bowing her head desperately.

Imoen knew she was annoying. She also knew what people did with annoying people; they ignored them. Sometimes they knocked them out but for the most part they just looked for anything to divert their attention. In this case the much nicer elven friend whom they would much rather cooperate with. Anyway, as the Amazons all had their attention on Aerie's apology, Imoen decided to help herself to one of the scrolls from Stasia's sack.

_Prometheus's Fire..._ what the blazing kobolds was that? She unfortunately had no time to read further as Aerie had finished pleading for the redhead's life. She quickly stuffed the scroll into her own tunic just as Stasia faced forwards again, as yet unaware that she'd lost anything.

"Anyway," the Amazon scholar said; they'd mutually agreed that the human thief wasn't worth wasting energy on. "Don't you want to know the rest of the story; what happened after we arrived on Themis?"

"Later," Imoen nodded ahead, "looks like some things up."

Ahead of them the nine other Amazons had stopped walking and were all looking up at something. Imoen braced herself for the worst but after a moment she reached the bend in the path and saw it was just a statue that had caught their attention. A huge bearded bronze man holding a club in one hand and an apple in the other and almost entirely naked except for a lion skin draped over his head and shoulders.

"Heracles," Penthesilea sneered.

"Queer looking fellow," Imoen commented chirpily, "anything we should know about him?"

"A thief and a murderer. That is all you need to you. Still... at least it's a sign we might be on the right track... your research may have paid off after all, Stasia, my dear," the copper haired Amazon bowed as the Queen pointed her sword to urge the Amazons onwards.

"Heracles was the son of a God, Zeus," Stasia explained to the two adventurers as they followed, "not very bright though. He once tried to shoot the sun out of the sky with an arrow because it was burning him. Also, he had to perform twelve labours that were brought on him by his own stupidity."

"Heh... sounds like a real bufflehead," Imoen snorted.

"One of his tasks was to steal the girdle of our then Queen, Hippolyta. Although he was welcomed into our land, he ended up killing her and taking the girdle."

"I-is that why you're here?" Aerie asked. "Do you think this girdle of Hippolyta might be inside the temple?"

"Oh... if that were the case it would be amazing," Stasia said excitedly, "The girdle was a gift from the god Ares that granted the strength of a hundred women. More importantly it was a symbol that cemented her authority as Queen. If we found that... it might just be all we need to unite everyone and end the fighting..."

"Fighting?" The elf arched an eyebrow. But before the Amazon could answer, they heard Penthesilea call for everyone to halt. Imoen wondered what it could be this time, but the smell gave her an early warning...

They had reached the top of the mound and were in front of the temple. There was a bit of rubble, a couple of the great stone columns had crumbled and fallen, but for the most part it seemed remarkably well preserved. There were numerous statues of stone and bronze and even gold; Imoen presumed they were of Gods and Goddesses and other heroes. Those however were not what everyone was looking at; they were immediately more concerned about the human bones and rotting flesh that lay strewn about everywhere. Most of Amazons had formed a line, regarding the scene of carnage for the most part impassively; just a bit of disgust because of the smell. Aerie meanwhile cautiously approached and examined the nearest carcass, the Amazonian guards sticking with her.

"Can you tell us anything?" Imoen asked, looking around in all directions for any sign of movement. This place was 'quantum', as Aerie had said, existing in many places at once. A lot of the bodies Imoen saw were wearing strange clothes and carrying odd weapons. One was covered in extremely bulky metal armour, like a paladin, but the helm had some sort of tubing sticking out of the sides. The armour wasn't broken; it looked like he (or she; it was quite hard to tell due to the thickness of the suit) had been thrown and died from some internal injury. There were the bodies of some orcs too... or something big and with green skin.

"Claws... bite marks," Aerie grimaced as she pulled a femur out from a sticky pile of flesh, "r-right through the bone. Er... definitely torn apart by some animal. I-I'd say it was like a dog or a wolf, but, bigger... m-much bigger..."

"A Bear, maybe? Or a Werewolf?"

"Bigger than those things combined."

"Why are we all standing around?" Huffed Clonie, pulling away from the group and thrusting out her sword and shield. The rest of the Amazons remained still however, the Queen only turning her head to continue staring with mild curiosity. "Who cares what kind of beast it is? We'll kill it just like any other."

"Uh-huh," Imoen nodded, "you're not deterred by the fact that all these folks lying here probably thought the same, just before taking a dirt nap?"

"D-don't walk out there on your own!" Aerie cried out desperately to the blonde Amazon. "Stay with the rest of the group!" The elf knew, as did Imoen, that any large predator around would first target the individuals separated from the herd.

"Ha! You scared, little girl?" Clonie laughed mockingly. "Amazons have no fear! Whatever it is, I say bring it o..." her screams lasted less than a second, drowned out by the snarling and gnashing of teeth that pounced on and engulfed her.

Imoen fell back as a few drops of Amazon blood splattered across her face, utterly stunned that such a huge ferocious creature could have remained. It must have been lying perfectly still behind one of the fallen columns, waiting for some full-of-herself idiot to wander too close. Her eyes locked with the yellow eyes of the beast as it sunk its teeth in to Clonie's unmoving body. For what seemed like a long time monster and godchild stared at one another, it drawing its lips back angrily. Imoen gulped; she may have just gone off dogs. Three headed ones anyway. Then, in another sudden movement, all its heads shook violently, ripping apart the, it was fair to say now, dead Amazon.

The redhead felt herself being lifted and then found herself being pulled along by Anti, Aerie, Nefti and Stasia running with them. The remaining Amazons had locked shields and were holding back the beast, which was almost as wide as all nine of them. A couple threw spears, which embedded themselves into the side of the creature but otherwise did nothing but infuriate it further. It retaliated by swiping at them with its huge paws, but the wall of shields remained steadfast. It was a standoff... trouble was, the Amazons were still humans and would eventually tire. Whereas this thing... well, it sure wasn't a natural creature.

"W-what was that?" Dark haired, dark eyed Nefti panted.

"Natural selection in action, I think," Imoen quipped under her breath. No one seemed to hear, but she wished she hadn't really. To be fair, she hadn't known Clonie that well. Bit of a bully and full of herself, but maybe she was an excellent painter and spent her free time arranging activities for orphaned children... now they'd never get to know that side of her. Sad.

"Cerberus," wide eyed and still very shocked Stasia said, "but... no, Cerberus was returned to Hades... it can't be him."

"Maybe it's a cousin?" Imoen offered with a shrug. "It's not important, is it? Unless you happen to know a way to kill it, or at least calm him down; maybe we can get him to jump off the hill by throwing a huge discus..."

"M-mound," Aerie corrected.

"No... I'm sorry. I don't know anything," the copper haired Amazon said, looking straight ahead with her eyes wide; clearly still shocked. It was obvious she hadn't been at this for very long. "I never even wanted to be a warrior anyway," she started muttering to herself, "just forced into it like everyone else... never had a choice. Hehe... but that's the funny thing, you see? We're always told this war is about freedom; freedom to live how we want, freedom to choose... right, provided how we choose to live is as blood thirsty vixens wearing mini-skirts... heh, I just wanted to be a teacher..."

"Okay... she is gone," Imoen shook her head sadly. She'd seen people's minds break like this before, people who just weren't at all prepared for the blood and horror of an actual battle; for when it was no longer something you just read about or saw in pictures, but real and right there in front of you. There were questions raised about the war she was talking about and the fighting she'd mentioned earlier, but... nothing could be done for Stasia right now and there were more pressing matters, such as the two thousand pound hell hound. "You got any ideas, Aerrers?"

"Look up there," the elf pointed. Imoen followed her finger to one of the statues, a big stone man holding up a sphere. The statue was on top of another, smaller mound... but the mound had been corroded so that it was now right on the edge, just above where the beast was still engaged with the Amazons.

"I doubt any of us have the strength to move that," Anti said.

"Don't need to be strong," Imoen mused, "just need leverage. With a big enough lever I could move the world," unfortunately considering the size of the statue they would need a quite big lever, not to mention one that wouldn't bend or break. "Or, if we just kick out some of the dirt from under it gravity could do the rest," yeah, there had be something around she could use for that... "All right, Aerie, see if you can calm her down," she said of Stasia who was still twittering. "I just need to find some explosive..."

"Here," Nefti, it seemed, was already prepared. She handed to Imoen a small cylinder with a fuse. Bit like a firecracker but, Imoen was guessing, somewhat more powerful.

"Wow... do you all have these?"

"No. I come from a line of alchemists."

"Great. You'll have to tell us more your magnum opus later," Imoen left the others to take care of Stasia and started to run up the mound. At the top she threw herself on the ground and wiggled her body to the edge, lying just next to the base of the statue. Below her the beast was still snarling and swiping at the Amazons who were still holding it in place now joined by Antibrote who had hopefully explained what the plan was. If not they were going to get shock, not to mention lots of dust in their eyes which can be pretty nasty.

The statue was right on the brink... just the tiniest movement should cause it to tip. Now she hoped she'd remembered her tinderbox or this whole idea would be up in smoke. She had it, so just to get a few sparks, light the fuse, which over and jam the cylinder right under the statue and then get up and run very fast. And then... boom.

The Amazons covered their faces with their shields as they were showered in little stones and dirt. The heads of the beast turned towards the noise just as the world came tumbling down across its back.

Imoen picked herself up, knowing that her black tunic was now suddenly a lot whiter on the back side. But that didn't matter; she ran back down and around the mound to admire her handiwork; the hound still gnashed and snarled at them, but was now helplessly pinned. Coolly, Penthesilea took a spear and thrust it into one of the eyeballs; two others did likewise to the other heads and after a final defiant shudder the beast was still.

"Clonie was no warrior," Imoen heard Antibrote say as she headed back towards her group, shaking some of the dust from her hair. The big woman, Aerie, Nefti and Stasia, who seemed to have settled down, had gathered around the fallen Amazon. Or bits of her anyway. "A true warrior does know fear; she knows to have respect for her enemies and her surroundings."

"Did... d–did she have a family?" Aerie asked quietly.

"Her mother and two sisters. We will of course tell them she died honourably in battle, rather than as the fool she was."

"How can you talk so coldly about her?" Stasia admonished. "I mean... I didn't exactly like her, but still... she was one of us, wasn't she?"

"And that is why we'll lie to protect the ones who cared about her. War is just... like that. You'll see."

"You've mentioned war a couple of times," Imoen saw now as as good an opportunity as any. "Don't suppose you can tell us who you're at war with and what it you're really looking for here?"

"Prometheus's Fire..." Stasia said, but before she could say any more she was called over by her Queen, now standing at the entrance to temple, a staircase into the mound. Antibrote and Nefti went along too, leaving Imoen disappointed.

"Hmph... look at this Aerie," she said, turning her back on the Amazons and showing her friend the scroll.

"Prometheus... i-it says he stole fire from the Gods and gave it to mankind," Aerie read. The scroll contained lots of fun facts about Prometheus and his deeds and his punishment and eventual rescue by Heracles. Of course, like with stories about Gods on any world how much actual truth was in them was debatable. But it seemed both Heracles and Prometheus had existed and that they had built this temple.

"I got that bit. But I'm guessing The Amazons probably already have fire, so, 'Prometheus's Fire' must be something else, right?"

"A weapon?" Aerie's eyebrows went up; further down a scroll was a helpful illustration showing a huge mushroom shaped cloud and lots of tiny stick figures being blown away by it. "Oh... a-a very powerful weapon..."

"One that could end a war pretty quick, wouldn't you say?"

"I don't understand," Aerie shook her head.

"What's to understand? Queen Sil is looking for a way to finish off all her enemies in one fiery storm."

"That's not what I don't understand..."

"Shhh... tell me later," Imoen hid scroll again just as two Amazons approached.

"You two... move," one of them said, her spear tip making it clear that she didn't mean to ask politely.

"Oh, are we wanted? It's so nice to be wanted."

Really, the Queen just wanted to keep an eye on them. Over by the entrance into the mound, Stasia was translating an inscription written in bold lettering.

"'Herein lies Prometheus's Fire'," the copper haired Amazon read out, "'my final gift to all creation. Be wary, those who would seek to use such power, for it is I, deceiver of Zeus, who shall have the last laugh.'"

"So... it is here..." Nefti said, seemingly surprised.

"It would seem so," Stasia nodded. Imoen kept looking at Nefti... there was something most strange. It wasn't just surprise on her face, it was disappointment. The dark haired woman bowed her head and started to walk away, in a manner which for some reason put Imoen in mind of a mourner at a funeral. She was walking, perhaps a little too deliberately, towards Penthesilea.

"The last laugh?" Aerie said with one of her own fingers placed thoughtfully on her lip. "I-I wonder what he meant by that..." Imoen noticed Nefti had removed something from her sack... something big and round.

"Well, Prometheus was always a bit of a trickster," Stasia shrugged, "he gave mankind fire as a gift. But it's a gift that can not only sustain life, but destroy it in equal measure. Wasn't all warmth and fennel stalks with him."

"No, but..."

"Look out!" Imoen suddenly shouted and leaped through the air... Nefti and her magnum opus, in a much bigger container than the one she had given the redhead. Unfortunately, by the time Imoen had tackled her the raven haired Amazon had already gotten a spark from her flint and lit the fuse. The bomb rolled just a few feet away as Amazon and Thief hit the ground together. Naturally, the sudden turn of events surprised many people.

"Get off me!" Nefti screamed, pinned beneath the redhead. Imoen wouldn't have managed to hold her there herself; two other Amazons had quickly piled on top as well while the raven haired one kept bucking and kicking. "You have no idea what you are doing!"

"So!" Penthesilea hissed. "An Antiope spy sent to kill me... typical of you cowards."

"Look," Imoen gasped for breath, "before we start bickering about who was sent to kill who and why, could somebody please get rid of that bomb..."

Antibrote responded to the request, taking it and chucking it. There was a flash, a boom and a rush of air blowing everyone's hair back. Imoen got some dust in her eyes, which was pretty nasty, actually. Rubbing them would only make it worse; you had to really wash it out with your own tears. But at least no one else had died.

"Thank you," the redhead said sincerely. The Amazons pulled her up so that they could get at Nefti, whose struggles had by now exhausted her. Two of them held her up so that their Queen could scorn her would be assassin.

"So," Penthesilea said through her wickedly curled lips, "who are you, really?"

"I am Princess Thalestris of Antiope," again there should really have trumpets or something to give the announcement more gravitas. "And you, your majesty, are a tyrant bitch," The Queen slapped the Princess hard across the face. Everyone in the vicinity must have felt it. Thalestris turned her head back and spat. "Heh... you'll get no begging from me, you harpy," another slap, "y-you want every Amazon to bow down and worship you like a Goddess, and if they won't because of your benevolence then you'll get to them to do it out of fear. But I didn't think even you were this insane," slap, "you... you pig headed daughter of Phorcys," slap... slap... "Mare of Diomedes," slap... slap... slap... "Your perfume smells like the breath of a Minotaur."

"Make her kneel!" The Queen commanded, her face red and contorted as the veins on her neck stood out. Although Thalestris struggled, the two Amazons holding her kicked her behind the knees so that she was forced to kneel. This seemed to calm her majesty. "All those brave words, but see how powerless you really are? Powerless to do anything to change the course of history; my ascension into Godhood."

"Do you want the pleasure of killing her, your majesty?" One of the Amazons restraining the Princess asked.

"No... I want her to live. I want her to watch as her country and her people burn and then live with the shame of her failure and having to acknowledge I, Penthesilea, as conqueror and Queen of all the Amazons."

"All the Amazons that are left, anyway," Imoen muttered a short distance. She knew there was something suspicious about this Queen. "I really don't like to get involved in politics. Demon Knights and magic mirrors are far less messy things than politics. But, Prometheus's Fire... I don't think it's something she should have."

--

"I think I know how the rest of your story goes," Imoen found Stasia moments later, going through her belongings and noticing she must have dropped something. Nefti or Thalestris had been securely bound and the other Amazons were having a rest before heading down. A few of them had injuries, but nothing serious. A few scratches and bruises; it wasn't like any of them had been temporarily blind or anything. Anyway, the Queen was busy communing with the Gods; that probably meant she was dreaming about a sky engulfed with fire. Hopefully she would take a while.

"You headed for your new world thinking it was going to be some perfect utopian paradise," the redhead continued, "Only it wasn't; pretty soon all the same things started going wrong for you that had always gone wrong in 'man's world'... stop me if I'm wrong at any point."

"There were prejudices that we carried over from the old world," Stasia nodded sadly, "and philosophical and ideological differences. With no common enemy to unite against those differences became more apparent."

"That's the trouble with utopias; they rely on everyone conforming and thinking and acting the same way. But people aren't like that. Sure, it starts with all giggling and splashing around waterfalls, and it seems fun for a while... but then the waterfalls become all green and filled with scum and the giggling becomes moaning."

"A-a society in which everyone conforms stagnates," Aerie added, "No creativity, no new ideas, no progress, ever."

"Right; people want to be excited by things. There's no real joy in paradise and each day being the same as every day."

"But, t-that doesn't mean that different ideologies can't co-exist on the same world."

"Maybe the problem was that we started as warriors," Stasia sighed, "and warriors only really know one way to settle an argument. Or maybe there's just darkness at the hearts of all humans, not just men. Things really kicked off when one of our Queens died without leaving or naming an heir... all the different factions claimed their own candidate as the rightful ruler. Been war ever since. Eventually, everyone split up and found their own queendoms but the fighting kept going."

"Because some of you had gotten greedy," Imoen said, "it wasn't enough to just rule one land; they wanted your neighbours land as well with all its greener fields. Or some, like Sil, have just got so much power that the only thing they want is more."

"There are two powerful nations now; Antiope to the north and we Otrerans to the south. And Penthesilea... I-I didn't think she actually planned to use Prometheus's Fire. I thought it would just be a deterrent..."

"No... not with her. I've seen her type before. Dictators who just want more all the time and to take it away from everyone else. She actually wants to be a Goddess; she wants to hold in her hands the power to decide not just the life or death of one person but of millions," Imoen thought back to Irenicus's words in the barrier. It was true; she thought sometimes about how easy it was to take a life. But, she had always known at those times that it was a power she didn't want to have. There was just too much fun in life to be had on your own. But Sil... if the only way to make every living thing worship her was to keep killing until she was the last thing left alive... "If someone like her had that kind of power, she would use it."

"I guess someone should have stood up to her a long time ago. She hides it pretty well sometimes, but most of us know what she's really like. Now everyone is too afraid... I'm sorry."

"Well, it's not your fault she's crazier than a two-eyed Cyclops."

"No, I mean I'm sorry that I didn't stop her earlier, from doing what she did to both of you."

"What do you mean, 'both of us'?" Imoen raised an eyebrow quizzically. "Sure, she beat up Aerie a bit, but, well, she is used to that."

"No, that's not it..."

"Well then, what _is_ it?" Imoen was growing frustrated with Stasia's stalling... although, she did now have a very bad taste in her mouth.

"I-it's your own stupid fault, anyway," Stasia just spat it out, "neither of you thought to ask how Amazons make babies when there are no men around?"

"But... I-I thought that there were men," Imoen said, eyes widening as the realization was dawning. "But that you just kept them at home..."

"Not anymore. No man has set foot on Themis since, well, ever."

"It... it was that 'tea', wasn't it?" Oh, she should have thrown it up...

"Y-you've developed a symbiotic relationship with a plant?" Aerie made a question face. "They actually pollinate you, in a way... a-and presumably in exchange you tend to them. T-that's astonishing, really."

"Yeah... astonishing," Imoen didn't quite share the elf's enthusiasm for learning, or for experiencing the process first hand. She was starting to hyperventilate. "But... h-how does it work? I mean, I wasn't, you know, before... is it every time you drink it?"

"It has to be prepared a certain way," Stasia explained, "but I'm afraid once it has then I've never known it to fail."

"But... she drank it as well," Imoen fell on her bottom, unable to sort through the myriad of negative thoughts she has was having. Although most of them did involve doing some very nasty things to Penthesilea.

"You only saw her pressing the cup against her lips; of course she didn't actually drink the stuff."

"I've... I've been violated. Violated by a skirt-wearing, megalomaniacal, female dictator... how am I going to explain this to Jae and the others? Why would the Queen do this?"

"Come on, you already know why; power. She did it because she can. Because she knew there was no one who would stop her."

"Um... how do you feel, Aerie? Elves are supposed to have a sixth sense about this stuff, right?"

"I don't feel any different from normal," The Avariel sat next to her friend, although she had managed to maintain a much more philosophical posture. "Bit sad, a tiny bit angry but mostly just confused but a-at the same time astonished by everything... just the same as always. M-maybe it's too soon."

"Well, how soon will you know?"

"I don't know... I-I've never been pregnant before."

"Please don't say that word..."

"It may not work on elves at all," Stasia shrugged, "far as I know, it's never been tried."

"Right, but I definitely have been screwed, haven't I?" Imoen turned to her friend, pulling on her shoulders. "Aerie... if... if I am... you know... y-you'll be able to do something, won't you? I-I'm too young to become a mom. I don't want to have to explain to him when he's older that his father was a woman..."

"Um... if it's any consolation," Stasia smiled sheepishly, "it will definitely be a girl."

"I don't care if it comes out with wings and its own bow... I can't have child like this. I'm not ready. There are too many I want to do first; like getting a proper job or learning to play the lyre..."

"You know, three times I've seen you try to learn an instrument," Aerie sighed, "a-and each time you just get bored after a few days and trade it for some stinking cloud scrolls to use on Anomen."

"Well, there, you see? That's why I'd make a bad parent."

"Y-you wouldn't trade your child for some stinking clouds... would you?"

"I wouldn't be able to give it the attention it deserves."

"You might be a really good mom."

"I won't... I'd be bad at it," Imoen cried, "I once tried to take care of a squirrel that had hurt its leg; I left him out by the cliff on his own one day and an eagle got him. Why are you not more concerned about all this?"

"Well," Aerie pressed her finger against her lip, "i-it's obvious that a drink couldn't make you pregnant unless there were magic involved. T-there's a good chance that whatever stops our spells and our items from working here would have prevented this as well."

"Yeah," Imoen wiped under her eyes, her thoughts becoming much clearer now. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"You don't have my wisdom, remember?" Aerie did her very cute smile, blink and shrug. "O-of course, we'll do a toad test when we get back. But until we know for sure there's no point in panicking, is there?"

"You're right," Imoen rose to her feet and punched herself in the palm. Her thoughts were now very vivid indeed. "Let's concentrate on dealing with that Queen of all bitches... oh, er... no offense to you, of course."

"Um... none taken," Stasia said, scratching her head.

"I ought to tear out her lower intestine and learn to play that like a string instrument, until I think of something even worse to do."

"But what do we do? There are only three of us and you two are not Amazons, and I've never really been in a battle before."

"Well, we'll have to get some more support then, won't we?"

--

"I should strike you all where you stand," Antibrote didn't do that but she did shower them all with her spit. "You, Stasia? Conspiring with two strangers against our Queen?!"

"You saw her, you heard her," Stasia said desperately, "she intends to use it. She's insane!"

"She is our Queen!" The big woman spat back, as if royal blood was somehow a safeguard against insanity. "I... I mentored her, taught her how to fight... practically raised her as my own child..."

Ah... Imoen knew now this was going to be very awkward indeed. From the strain and tension evident throughout her body, it was clear Antibrote did have doubts about her Queen. But, to convince someone with such maternal feelings that the child they had devoted their lives to raising and nurturing was evil... that was never going to be easy. Still, since they had already told her everything they had no choice but to do it somehow.

"Then you must know what she's really like?" Stasia kept at her.

"She... used to go a little bit too far against her opponents sometimes," the big Amazon said, clearly remembering Penthesilea's training. "It was never enough just to win... she had to completely crush her opponents. But, she learned to reign it in... a fact you should be thankful for," she pointed out Aerie, "she's getting better."

"She's only gotten better at acting, Antibrote. At fooling you. What we saw in front of Thalestris; that was the real Penthesilea. She will kill everyone in Antiope."

"So? Don't you want this war to end?"

"Not like that!"

"But what if there is no other way?"

"There is! The Girdle of Hyppolyta!"

"You are dreaming, girl. Even if we were to find it, the war wouldn't end. They'd just say it was a fake, or that it's rightfully theirs anyway. And I... I've just seen too many promising young warriors die in these pointless battles... warriors that I have taught."

"But, t-that's the point isn't it?" Aerie said, stepping forward somewhat boldly. "You taught them to be warriors."

"I did. What of it?"

"When Prometheus's Fire rains down on Antiope, i-it won't just be warriors who die. But, m-mothers and children... are they all your enemies as well? They will all die, and, t-they'll never know who it was who killed them or why. Is that how you taught your warriors to fight? Is that... is that honour?"

"No," Antibrote shook her head slowly. There was visibly less tension in her now, so perhaps Aerie's argument had swayed her somewhat. "No... that is not the way of a warrior. That is not honour."

"So... you'll help us stop it?" Imoen asked.

"It... it is the only honourable thing to do."

"Great," with Antibrote signed on, Imoen turned back to Stasia. "Anyone else who might join our side."

"No," Antibrote answered for her, "the others were all hand picked by Penthesilea herself, and are fiercely loyal."

"What about Tris or Nefti whatever her name is?"

"An... oversight, on my part. I brought her along because I thought she had promise."

"The Queen wasn't mad after your promising student tried to kill her?"

"She believes the end is almost at hand. It hardly matters to her now."

"I think we should rescue her anyway. I know we were only together a short time but I kind of feel like she's one of us, y'know? Besides which, if we manage to pull everything off you guys are going to need her."

--

Thalestris was sat her knees, mournfully. The one guarding her had fallen asleep, but she had given up trying to break free of her bonds anyway. Until she noticed a presence behind her and the bonds suddenly start to loosen. Turning around she caught a glimpse of some red hair.

"You!" She hissed.

"Heya, Princess," Imoen whispered.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm rescuing you. That's heroes do. They rescue Princesses."

"Do not expect me to kiss you."

"Heh... incidentally, that wasn't very warrior like was it? A bomb? If you wanted to kill her why not just challenge her to a duel or something."

"Hmph... what would you know?"

"Weren't sure you could win, huh?"

"Do you know what she is planning? There is too much at stake for me to be worried about my honour."

"Couldn't agree more."

"If it wasn't for you I could have ended her already."

"You'd have ended all of us, and so that's where our opinions differ."

"Admittedly I am just kind of making it up as I go along, but don't worry. Improvs one of my specialities," Imoen finished cutting through all the bonds and Thalestris could finally stretch her arms. Luckily she was curious enough to not just punch Imoen. "Soon as Aerie has created a diversion we're going to run inside the temple."

"A diversion? How?"

"Well, she has your bag of tricks."

"More explosions?"

"Me rather attached to my hands and legs and feet. She's under strict instructions not to blow anything up... Aerie knows a bit of alchemy as well so I'm sure she'll think of something that'll let us make it there in one piece."

There were three very loud booms spaced a few seconds apart, kicking up huge amounts of dirt. A thick cloud of smoke also spread around everything, adding to the Amazons confusion as they scattered in all directions. A few dived out of the way just in time to avoid being crushed by one of the huge stone columns falling creating shockwaves and sewing more confusion.

"Okay... that is not what I asked her to do," Imoen prodded Thalestris to start running, Imoen going alongside whilst more dust had gotten in her eyes. "Soon as I get my hands on that thatch-roofed imbecile..."

It took a few moments for The Amazons to gather themselves together. Penthesilea strolled across the field to check on her prisoner... and found her gone. Looking at who else was missing, it didn't take her long to deduce what had happened.

"They have gone inside! After them!"

--

"What was that!?" Imoen had Aerie up against one of the stone walls inside the temple. "I asked you to be very careful not to blow me up. Do you call that being careful?"

"Er... I-I'm sorry," the elf grinned and rubbed the back of her own head nervously. "I-it was only supposed to make a little smoke. I... I guess I miscalculated the mixture slightly, b-but I didn't have much time..."

"Well... that's fair enough, I guess. All right then," Imoen let her go.

"They are coming," Antibrote informed, although they could all hear the foot falls echoing down the corridors.

"Okay, well," Imoen had to hurriedly make up the next part of her plan, "I guess, me and Anti will stay here and try to slow them down... the rest of you will go on and find Prometheus's Fire and see if there's a way to destroy it or at least stop anyone from being able to use it."

"I should stay," Thalestris said, "I want to be the one who finishes Penthesilea."

"Sorry, Princess. Someone has to guard our two scholars and make sure they get wherever it is they're going."

"It makes sense Nefti... Thalestris," Antibrote corrected herself, "and as for Penthesilea, there is every likelihood you will still get your chance. For now you must go."

"You too," Imoen noted the elf's pensive stare. "They'll probably need your wisdom. Besides, you play the hero often enough. Time to let someone else have a go."

"B-be careful," the elf sighed, knowing too that Imoen was for once making sense.

"I guess we just keep heading down," Stasia said, leading the three of them away.

"So, two against nine?" Antibrote weighed up the odds. "Although I suppose I'm being generous counting you as one."

"Look, I know this goes against honour and all your code as warrior," Imoen sighed. "But... I think we are going to have to cheat a little here."

--

Penthesilea led her Amazons ever more slowly into the mound. As the light from outside dwindled, she was increasingly cautious. Soon it was impossible to see any further in front and she commanded that they light torches... as they did she was sure she heard a faint sigh or groan. Turning about things seemed to be in order, except... there should have been eight Amazons behind her.

"Where is Derin?" The Queen enquired of her subjects. They all looked around, confused.

"She... she was at the back, your majesty."

"Hmph... they are laying traps for us. Be on your guard," she motioned them onwards. A short distance behind, in a small dark corridor branching off Antibrote was feeling Derin's last struggles as her hand covered the young woman's nose and mouth. She would live at least, provided she had the sense not to come around for a while.

The two Amazons now at the back of Penthesilea's group had turned about and were walking backwards. Just ahead, Imoen, hidden in an alcove, waited for all but those last two to pass her by before pulling on the wire she had concealed across the floor under dirt and dust. The two backwards facing Amazons stumbled backwards into the Amazons that were facing forwards, making a confusing mess of leather and legs. Imoen jumped out to admire her handiwork, even though all she'd really done was annoy them. Still, that was the plan.

"Give up, girl," Penthesilea growled. "No one has ever defied me and lived too long to tell about it."

"I'm all about new ideas and innovation these days," Imoen answered facetiously. "Change can be a good thing."

"This is not a game girl... you will lose your life."

"You'd have to catch me first, Queen Rent-a-lyre, or whatever your name is. And you are just way too slow," Imoen wondered if the dance she did just then was really necessary, but she enjoyed doing it.

"_Take her!!!_" The Queen screeched angrily. The Amazons had by now unentangled themselves and were able to pursue Imoen who was already running away at high speed. "Not you three," she said to the last ones, motioning them onwards into the mound. This brat, Imoen, was obviously attempting to stall them; no doubt hoping her friends would reach Prometheus's Fire first. She had little time to waste on such a nuisance.

--

Imoen skidded as she reached the section where two corridors headed off from the main one, and soon sped off down one with four furious Amazons close behind. In the opposite corridor from the one the redhead had gone down, Antibrote lay in wait, drawing her sword and stepping forward just as the Amazons arrived. Two carried on pursuing Imoen, while the others turned to meet the new threat, swords and shields clashing.

The redhead had only been able to survey the area briefly, but she did have a plan. Obviously she wasn't going to stop and meet her two pursuers in honourable combat; for her that would mean certain death and she was quite fond of living. Instead she dived into a room, waited for the Amazons to catch up and then slammed the door in their faces. Of course, this only stunned them for a few seconds in which time she crossed to the other side of the room and hid behind a stone table.

One of the Amazons saw her hiding and with a grin leapt at her, making some strange screeching/chirruping noise as she pirouetted in mid air. That, Imoen had to admit, she hadn't quite been expecting. Still, this was where she had hidden a crossbow, so she picked it up and shot the Amazon with it.

"What you get for showing off," the redhead muttered as she tried to reload. Unfortunately, this was as far as she'd really gotten with her plan. The rest she would have to improvise, and the first thing she had to improvise was using her unloaded crossbow to block a sword. The remaining Amazon kept pushing forward, sword pressed against bow pressed against Imoen, whose back collided with a wall at high speed. In her quick look round earlier Imoen hadn't noticed that the wall was hollow and so it was a surprise for her and Amazon that they both went straight through it, landing on their sides amidst a pile of bricks.

The Amazon clearly had a much tougher body, and was wearing armour, so recovered and was back on her feet long before Imoen. She kicked the redhead in the side, then spat on her as she watched the girls pathetic attempt to crawl away. Finally, she took a handful of red hair and started pulling her up.

But Imoen always had a trick or two up her sleeve for situations like this. On this occasion it wasn't a low blow, but a small bag filled with powder. As the woman pulled her up, Imoen swung her arm so that the contents of the bag were opened across the Amazons face. It wasn't just dust that had gotten into her eyes, but a mix of various hot spices... actually very nasty.

As the Amazon screamed, desperately trying to rub the burning stuff out of her eyes (which of course only rubbed it in further), Imoen braced herself against the wall and kicked with both of her legs. The Amazon stumbled backwards and was pierced by the horns of some bull-like creature, or its head that was on display anyway.

"I love it when a plan comes together," she wheezed, letting herself slide down the wall. Of course, it wasn't over yet, but she couldn't be thrown through a wall and not rest a few minutes; wait for at least something to stop hurting so much.

As she did she looked around. Looked like a trophy room, the heads or two heads of various monsters mounted on tables and on the walls. There was one display that seemed a little of place though... not a monster part, but a piece of clothing. A belt or something... or maybe it was a girdle. She dragged herself across the floor on her hands and knees and peered at the inscription beneath. She could definitely make out the name Hippolyta. Now, she just had to rest for a few more minutes.

She couldn't feel her toes.... although she remained conscious bits of her body seemed to passing out one by one. That wasn't good.

--

In the meantime, Antibrote was busy finishing her two opponents. Although they were skilled swordswomen, by now the difference in experience and physique was starting to show. The two younger Amazons were starting to tire, and such they were becoming increasingly desperate for a quick end to this fight. Which was what they got.

Antibrote side stepped one, swiping the woman with her shield and knocking the Amazon's head hard into the wall and into dream land. The second Amazon desperately lunged, thinking the elder was exposed. Her blow was easily deflected by Antibrote's sword, and then a quick swipe finished her.

--

Much further down in the mound, Aerie, Thalestris and Stasia had at last reached their goal. It took all three of them to open just one of the huge stone doors, and once they had they found themselves bathed in a warm orange glow as before them was an entire cavern filled with an effervescent whirlwind of fire.

"It's... it's beautiful," said Aerie, "I-I would never have gotten to see sights like this in the circus. Or in Faenya Dail..."

"It's a problem," Thalestris said, "just how are we supposed to destroy this?"

Stasia ran forward, dropping her sack, onto a platform overlooking the whirlwind. There was a table, over which was an opaque rusty coloured sphere.

"This is how you operate it... exactly like its described in the scrolls," the copper haired Amazonian scholar started turning some dials on a bench. "You need all of these to choose the world," as she moved the dials the sphere started to change; now it was blue with white clouds and landmasses. "And there coordinates and the size of the area you want to incinerate, and finally you activate it by pushing down this crystal," she pointed at glass tube with a red crystal inside.

"So, if we just destroy all these mechanisms," Thalestris thought out loud, "that would prevent anyone from using it, right?"

"I guess..."

"Well then," the Princess picked up a rock and held it above the controls.

"T-that's," Aerie tried to warn her, but too late. A mystical shield bounced the rock off and sent some more energy outwards knocking Thalestris off her feet. "Not a good idea," the elf sighed. The machine clearly had protection from normal weapons; it didn't have to worry about magic weapons since it was somehow sucking all the magic out of everything else. Aerie carried on reading the other runes and writing on the walls; more stories about Prometheus and his deeds.

"That's it then," Thalestris picked herself up and hung her head, "we can't do anything to this thing. All we can do is lay down our lives to make sure Penthesilea never gets her hands on it..."

"T-this is what I don't understand," Aerie said, unusually for her thinking out loud. She was hoping Stasia or even the Princess might help her to make sense of the problem. "In all of these stories, Prometheus tricks the Gods and helps mankind... so, w-why would he make a weapon that could wipe out humanity? It feels out of character."

"He was a trickster," Stasia shrugged, "sure, the stories make it seem like he's helping mankind out a lot, but how much of them do you think is actually true? You don't really think he gave fire to man? Fire was around a long time before there were any Gods or men. He probably put those stories out there himself to make some gullible idiots think he was great."

"Maybe," Aerie wasn't entirely convinced, but putting some outrageous story out there was certainly something a God might do. "But... a-at the entrance it said he would have the last laugh..."

"No. I will have the last laugh here," Penthesilea grinned. The three Amazons around her had loaded crossbows pointed at the party. "Now, please step away from there."

"Please," Stasia pleaded desperately, "you can't through with this your majesty!"

"I think you'll find I can. Who will stop me? Heh... not Prometheus. He's been dead a thousand years."

"I will," Thalestris said, drawing her sword, "I challenge you to a duel, your majesty. If there is any honour left in you, you will accept."

"Why should I waste my time on a princess when soon the world... no, the universe will see that I am a God?"

"Why, you cold sperm of Hades!"

"Ha! I do like hearing your desperate attempts to hurt my feelings. Do say more."

While Thalestris hurled more insults, Aerie looked at Penthesilea, unmoved by any of them as she was completely assured of her dominion over all things. But then the elf's eyes were drawn to the walls behind the Queen and the scorch marks there. And then to where Stasia was standing, in front of the red crystal, and the ashes around her feet. Then she looked at the runes around the room... the most complex series of runes she had ever seen. And if you didn't look very closely at them, you might not have seen what was wrong... and then she thought about the inscription and it suddenly all made sense.

This was not a time to be brave or stupid. It was time she learned from Imoen.

"Give up, both of you," the elf said, hanging her head in defeat.

"What?" Stasia gasped.

"I knew you were no fighter, Aerie," Thalestris gasped as well, "but I thought at least you had courage."

"But... y-you know how strong she is. We can't win," the Avariel shook her head, "we just can't. I-it's hopeless."

"Heh... I see you were taught a thing or two by our first encounter," Penthesilea grinned. "I like a girl who can learn. There may be a place for you here."

"I cannot stand by doing nothing while my people are destroyed," Thalestris was utterly stunned and... disappointed.

"But, a-at least you can live... if you're alive you can keep their memory and culture alive too."

"Indeed. I will keep you, like a museum piece," Penthesilea laughed, then nodded for two Amazons to rush forward and disarm the princess. Thalestris didn't resist... the pain of this sudden betrayal and the loss of all hope seemed to have overwhelmed her. Aerie couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt; even though she knew this was all just an act.

"I won't help you operate it," Stasia said defiantly as the Queen approached.

"Fine," Penthesilea held up the scholar's sack. "I have everything I need here. Now get out of the way."

The Amazons with crossbows tossed the other three back towards the door and set about guarding their Queen as she went about following the detailed instructions Stasia had made for her.

"Themis," the copper haired Amazon sighed in defeat as the worlds image soon appeared.

"I should kill you!" Thalestris hissed as she shoved Aerie violently against the closed door.

"Antiope won't be destroyed," the elf whispered, "I-I'm sure of it..."

"What?" The Princess said, suddenly confused again.

"I... I can e-explain everything... but, o-only if you let me breathe, and first we need to run."

"What is going on?" Antibrote exclaimed, suddenly appearing next to them with Imoen hanging loosely from her shoulder.

"Oh... Antibrote, my old teacher turned betrayer," Penthesilea chuckled from the across the platform. "You are just in time to witness the end."

"You didn't stop her," The big warrior clenched her fist.

"Because this coward gave up without a fight!" Thalestris slammed Aerie into the door again.

"Who? Aerie?" Imoen cranked her head up. "That doesn't sound like her. Hey, can you turn me round so I can look at her?" Antibrote complied, turning herself and the redhead around so she could look the elf in the eyes. "Thanks... now, Aerie, wanna tell me what's going on?"

"T-there isn't time to explain everything," the elf said, "but, I-I really think we need to run. Get as far away from here as we can."

"Right," Imoen nodded, trusting her friend. "Thing is, running is a bit of problem for me right now. I think you're going to have to move my legs for me... maybe tie a bit of string round each of my ankles or something..."

"At last!" Penthesilea exclaimed, having finished making all her adjustments. "Now the war shall end and I shall be the undisputed Empress of all the Amazons," her ruby lips curled wickedly once more as she pressed the crystal down with her palm. Then she looked surprised as her hand remained perfectly still for a moment, and shortly after that she looked horrified. "What... what is this?"

"What is wrong, your majesty?" One of the crossbow guards asked.

"I... I can't move my body. It won't obey my commands... "

Before her, the whirlwind of fire started to coalesce and take a form... the form of a fiery face. And the face was laughing. All present stared at it, confused as to what it represented... all except Aerie. And Imoen since she needed to be turned around. The face grinned, and balls of fire leapt from its eyes striking two of the Queen's guards reducing them to piles of dust and ash instantly. The remaining guard quickly abandoned her majesty and joined the others.

"I can't see! What's going on?!" Imoen demanded petulantly. Aerie and Stasis each grabbed one of her legs and helped Antibrote to carry her away as fast they possibly could. "Ohhh... that's pretty," she said, catching a glimpse of the face as she was hurried off.

Penthesilea could do no more than watch the face laughing at her... not even her own body would obey her anymore. She could just watch as the mouth got wider with each chuckle, and then like the tongue of lizard catching an insect, the flames leapt out and consumed her.

--

"T-the whole thing was a trick," Aerie explained, outside by the original Amazon camp. They had recovered those warriors who had only been injured in the battle with Antibrote and Imoen; in fact only that one who had been unfortunate enough to fall on a Bulls head had actually died. The rest were just licking their wounds.

"Prometheus 'put out there' a story about an ultimate weapon," the elf continued, "j-just as a lure so he could trap those foolish enough to actually want to use such a power... who would want to become like Gods themselves. That was his last laugh."

"That's deep," Imoen nodded sagely, "too deep for me to think about to be honest. I'm just glad Penthesilea got what she really deserved."

"What will you do now?" Aerie enquired of Stasia. "N-now that you haven't got a Queen?"

"I don't know," the copper haired Amazon said, "I'm hoping the people of Otrera might be open to the idea of a Republic. We've all seen the dangers now of one completely insane Amazon having too much power."

"Oh!" Imoen just remembered something she'd thought was important. "Here... I found this," the redhead, having got most of the use of her limbs back, reached into her pack and took out a belt. "It was just lying around in there. Figured you might have a use for it."

"The Girdle of Hippolyta," Stasia gasped, going to starry eyed as her hands touched it. It took a moment to compose. "Um... it... it might not end the fighting at once, but at least maybe it will get the sides talking again."

"Especially if a Princess from the opposing side confirms its authenticity," Imoen winked. Thalestris nodded affirmatively.

"Well then, we must be off," Antibrote stood, and immediately the other Amazons started collecting all their things. "It's a shame I never got to teach you how to fight, A-Aerie."

"Um... a-actually it's just one A," the elf tried to correct.

"But, a warrior fights with her mind as well as her body. There is hope for you. And you," she turned to Imoen, "your methods are not very warrior-like but, courage and sometimes doing the right thing are virtues I can respect. Farewell."

The Amazons turned and marched... well, some limped, into the barrier.

"Oh... they disappeared," Imoen observed after a moment.

"They went back to their world," Aerie said, "i-it's quantum a-and resonance, you see. I-I think as we go back we'll harmonise with the reality and the world we came from. That's... that's my theory anyway, and I'm sticking with it."

"Hey Aerie," Imoen yawned and lay back. She could move freely again, but it had been a long day, adding another one to the list of worlds she'd helped save. "You really think I'd be a good mom?"

"I-I'm sure your children would think you're the most fun mom in the whole world."

"Yeah... I'll be fun."

"U-until they're adolescents. Then you'll become an embarrassment to them a-and they'll hate you."

"Hmm... I'm too tired to get up and punch you right now. Here... just run into my fist for me," of course, Aerie was not really eager to do so. The two just shared a friendly smile. "Well... I'm not ready to become a mom yet anyway. You got that toad ready?"

The elf nodded... she hadn't realised there were any suitable amphibians around here but the Amazons had helped her find one. She held up a box and something inside it croaked unhappily.


End file.
